


Come With Me

by Badam_Luumsss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angry Sex, Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Eventual Smut, Fights, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Male Slash, Past Torture, Plot, Porn With Plot, Slash, Smut, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-16 03:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 45,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21501034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badam_Luumsss/pseuds/Badam_Luumsss
Summary: What if Draco drunk-texted Harry after the War to apologize? What if Harry listened?Harry saves a reluctant Draco from an arranged marriage and a sadistic father. But a lifetime of rivalry, old scars and the threat on Draco's life will be tough obstacles to overcome if they want to really be free.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 21
Kudos: 212





	1. Drunken Stupor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeGospelduDestiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeGospelduDestiel/gifts).



> Hi!
> 
> First Drarry fanfic for me, reviews very much appreciated!  
> Hope you'll enjoy this story :)
> 
> This Fic is dedicated to SteveTonyCupcakes. She's the one who introduced me to the merry world of fanfic and without her unwavering support and constructive feedback, I would've never dared to write anyhting, even less posting it here!  
> So thank you to the BESTEST FRIEND EVER, I love you girl and thanks again <3
> 
> Xoxo
> 
> Lums

_POTTAH_

_POTTAAAAAH_

**Erm... who is this?**

_Hahaha_

_U so clueless_

**...**

_Anywayyyyys_

_Waszzszsup Pottah_

**Are you drunk?**

_NooooOo_

_Mbaye_

_Yupp_

**…**

**Why are you drunk texting me? And again, who is this?**

_I’m drunk cos I got engaged_

_And u don’t wanna know who this is_

**Why?**

_Cos_

**WHY?**

_Cos u won’t like it_

**Ginny...? Is that you?**

**I told you we were over and you had to stop, remember?**

_WHAT_

_U BROKE UP WITH WEASLETTE????_

**Fuck**

**I guess it’s not Ginny then… Wait... You know her too? Are you from Hogwarts?**

_Why u brok up withh her????_

**It’s none of your business. I don’t even know who you are.**

_Wow soooo defensive Pottah..._

_I wonder wyh that is…._

**BECAUSE YOU’RE PISSING ME OFF THAT’S WHY YOU DIMWIT**

_Okay okay_

_Geeeeez calm down_

**If you don’t tell me I’ll block you.**

**I don’t have time to waste with this bloody nonsense.**

_I’ll tell you whaiat_

_You tell me why you brokke up with Ginger girl_

_and I tell u who I am..._

**No!**

_Whuy? It’s a fair deazl!_

**Because it’s personal!**

**I think I’ll just block you, way easier.**

_But...What if Ima frieind?_

**Then you’ll tell me next time I see you and I’ll unblock you.**

_U know, ur too clever for ur own good_

**And you’re too drunk to text anyone**

_Yet, ur still here_

_And u didn’t block me_

_Hehehe_

_Growing on u, am I?_

**I feel like I’m stuck in a loop with a bloody answering machine**

_A what?_

**It’s a muggle thing.**

_Ooooh. Not very knowledgeablle in that deparmtent am afraid._

**Yet you have a frickin phone…**

**So you’re not a muggle born or a half-blood then ?**

_Hell noo_

_Far from it_

**Don’t tell me you’re another sodding self-satisfied pureblood...**

_Okay I wont say it thhen hahaha_

**...**

_Admit it, ur dying to knowe who the hell Iam..._

**Maybe a little.**

_Then take the deal Potter..._

**Oh the hell with it. Everyone will know soon enough anyway, like they always do...**

_You bet! The juicy details of the Chosen One’s breakkup?_

_Skeeteer would give anarm for this!_

**Don’t. Call. Me. That.**

**And if you tell her anything, I’ll personally ensure you die a slow and painful death.**

_Waow okay okay_

_Ur always so intense_

_I wasn’t planning on doing that. I promise ur secret will be safe with me._

**Strangely enough, I don’t give that much credit to drunk stranger's promises...**

_Hahaha_

_Merlin Potter u do have a sense of humour!_

_And here I was taking you for Mr Boring-Vanilla guy!_

_Besides, u do know me_

**Yeah yeah, so you said...**

_So? What happened with Fox Face?_

_You were pretty cosy in 6tth year..._

**Urrgh…**

**I ended things because I realized... we weren’t right for each other.**

**The War changed me and then I found out things about myself I couldn’t ignore anymore. When I got back to Ginny, it wasn’t the same anymore. And I think she was more in love with a picture of me, an ideal that wasn’t me.**

_That’s pretty deep, Potter. The War changed me a lot too so I think I understand._

_What did you find out about yourself?_

**This wasn’t part of the deal. Now your turn.**

_Okay..._

_Look, could you promise me something?_

**Depends.**

_Don’t block me when I tell you. The thing is, we’re not on the best of terms but there’s something really important I have to tell you._

**Ok...**

_Thank you._

_I’m..._

**Yes?**

_Merlin this is harder than I thought…_

_I’m already getting too sober for that..._

**What the hell did I get myself into this time...**

_Okay, I’ll go then._

**By all means, do tell.**

_Argh. Ok._

_I’m..._

_I’m Draco Malfoy._

_Hello?_

_U blocked me yet?_

_Potter?_

_Fuck... I knew it._

**_Still there._ **

**_Just trying to process the information._ **

_Ok_

**Why the hell did you text me????**

**And how did you get my number???**

_Well, first: I’m very drunk (at least I was *sigh*)_

_Second: I have something I need to tell you._

_And third: Luna gave me your number._

**Luna??? Luna Lovegood?**

_Yes_

**The one you held captive in your cellar for months???**

_Yes. Thanks for reminding me..._

_I deserve that I suppose._

**Wtf**

_What?_

**Is that... regret???**

_Yes!_

**Okay this is a joke. You’re so not Malfoy. Who is this?**

_It’s me, I swear!_

**I don’t believe you.**

_Fine. Let’s hear it then._

_We first met at Madam Malkin’s, where you were with that oof Hagrid. In first year we had detention and came across something drinking a unicorn’s blood._

_You freed one of our house elves in second year -Dobby, I loved that elf btw, you bastard-. In sixth year you almost killed me in the Girls Bathroom and then you changed your mind and decided to save my life in the Room or Requirement for some reason._

_Is that enough for you or do you need more?_

**Okay okay, I believe you.**

**Gosh, how do you even remember half of this stuff?**

_Well, those were pretty intense memories._

**Okay, you may have a point there.**

**So, you’re in contact with Luna? I must say I didn’t see this one coming.**

_Well, like I said. The War changed me as well._

_I reached out to her to... apologize I guess._

**oO**

_I know... I thought she maybe needed closure and I wanted to. And we kinda became friends somehow along the way._

**...**

_What?_

**I’m just speechless. I don’t even know how to respond to that.**

_There’s a lot you don’t know about me._

**Obviously.**

**So, why did you need my number? What is it you want to tell me?**

_..._

**Come on**

_I guess I wanted to apologize._

**???**

_I know you have every reason to laugh at my face but I truly am sorry about a lot of things. About how I treated you and your friends at school. About what I did in sixth year and after._

_Still there?_

**I think I may be either dreaming or officially dead.**

_Hahaha_

**Is it the alcohol talking or do you really mean it?**

_I mean it. And..._

**Yes?**

_I also wanted to thank you._

**Wtf? Thank me? What for?**

_For saving my life the night of the fire._

_I didn’t deserve it._

**You didn’t deserve to die that way either.**

_I don’t even know why you did it._

_You could have died._

**I don’t know. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.**

**It just didn’t feel right to leave you there to die.**

**For fuck’s sake if someone told me I would have this conversation with you someday I would have kicked them all the way to St Mungo’s.**

_You and me both..._

**So, what changed?**

_Well... it’s pretty personal but I guess I owe you an explanation at the very least._

**Not if you don’t want to. It’s pretty heavy stuff.**

_Indeed, but I want to. I’m trying to... atone? Make amends? I don’t know, just trying to right some wrongs as I can._

_In sixth year everything started to crumble around me and I realized most of the beliefs I had been fed my whole life was utter rubbish. Of course it’s easy to say now but I didn’t want to do all these things. I know it’s no excuse but I did it to protect my family._

_You have no reason to believe me and it doesn’t really matter now but it’s true._

**It matters.**

**And I became aware of your ‘unwillingness’ at a certain point.**

**So... I think I can believe you.**

_You did??? How???_

**That night, on the Astronomy Tower... I was there.**

**I saw you lower your wand. You were about to take Dumbledore’s offer, weren’t you?**

_Y-You were there? God, that’s..._

**Yes. I was paralyzed and concealed but I saw and heard everything.**

_I had no idea..._

**And after that I know you were terrified and disgusted when Voldemort asked you to torture Rowle. You did it only because he threatened you.**

_How do you even know this???_

**It’s a long and complicated story.**

**And in the manor when we got caught, you knew it was us, didn’t you?**

_Y-Yes_

**Why didn’t you tell Bellatrix?**

_I don’t know, I didn’t want you dead, any of you. And..._

**And?**

_I wanted you to succeed. I wanted you to kill Voldemort, to end all this. So I gathered that if there was even the tiniest chance of you actually being the Chosen One and all that crap -no offence- I had to ensure you wouldn’t die before actually doing it._

**Oh. Waow.**

**(None taken, it IS crap)**

**What about your father? How is he taking your ‘change of heart’?**

_Not well. We haven’t been on the best of terms._

**Did you leave your home?**

_I wish..._

**That bad, huh?**

_Why do you think I’m getting drunk alone at 3 am?_

**Oh erm, I thought you had a bit too much to drink because of the celebration.**

_The celebration?_

**Didn’t you tell me you just got engaged?**

_Oh that. Well, there isn’t much cause for celebration tbh..._

**Why is that?**

_Because I’m not exactly willing, you see._

_It’s an arranged marriage and I don’t have much choice other than comply. Besides, something tells me we aren’t the best match... Hence the booze -which is getting low, shame-._

**What? Why don’t you refuse?**

_Because then I’ll be tortured until I say yes and even if I manage to get out, I’ll be a homeless, penniless, ex-Death-eater. Not the brightest prospect these days, don’t you think?_

**Tortured??? Wtf Malfoy!**

_Don’t worry, I’m used to it by now._

**????**

_I’ve never been the most compliant child and my father isn’t the patient kind._

**Malfoy, I don’t know what to say… That’s awful...**

_Would you mind not calling me by that name?_

_I’m not a huge fan of the brand for the aforementioned reasons._

**Okay, I guess**

**What do I call you then?**

_What about my first name?_

**This is all kinds of weird.**

_Ferret -or any other pleasing nickname- will do if it makes you uncomfortable._

**No, it’s alright I suppose... Draco.**

_Thanks... Harry._

**You said you thought you and your fiancée wouldn’t be the best match, why?**

_You don’t ever miss a thing, do you?_

**For one, I’m not the drunk one.**

**And I may have been consistently called “stubborn” and “annoyingly sly” along the years haha**

_Shocker._

**Hahaha**

**So, why?**

_Well, for starters she’s a pureblood and seems to have been a fervent supporter of the last Ministry Administration._

_And also there’s the small matter of me being at best disinterested in the fair sex._

**What? You... You’re gay?**

_As always, your deductive powers amaze me, Potter!_

_*Harry, sorry old habits die hard_

**Does your father know?**

_Yes. He is aware of my... inclinations._

**How did he take it?**

_Judging by the scars he left me after he caught me in a very compromising situation, I would say ‘not well’._

_Understatement of the year._

**Fuck... This is so messed up… Is there something I can do?**

_Well don’t you go all heroic on me, ô Chosen One, it’s not worth the trouble. And I think you deserve some rest on the hero/rescue front._

**I told you, don’t call me that.**

_Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you._

**It’s okay. It’s just a bit of a sore spot is all.**

_It is?_

**I’m tired of everybody always expecting me to act like the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One or whatever other stupid nickname with capitals they give me these days. I just want to be me and to be left alone.**

_It makes a lot of sense. It must be hard and weird to feel like people are only seeing the guy who offed the Dark Lord._

**You have no idea…**

**I don’t feel any different, I haven’t changed.**

**I just have blood on my hands now.**

_That’s pretty dark, Harry._

**Sorry. I didn’t mean to impose this on you.**

_Don’t be, I’m the one to talk!_

_And talking about it must help I suppose._

**Actually, it does.**

**No one wants to hear it, it feels very strange to tell those things to you of all people!**

_Not even Granger and the Weasel?_

**Not really... I don’t think they really understand.**

**For them it’s over, they moved on. They found jobs, a house and live the perfect white-picket-fence life.**

**But for me it’s not.**

_It will take time and help for you to get there after all, you’ve been through hell and back._

**You’re so close to the truth, it’s actually funny.**

_What do you mean?_

**Well, that night in the Forbidden Forest when I surrendered, I...**

_You what?_

**I kinda died?**

_You ‘kinda died’???_

**I did die. And then I came back. Sometimes I think I should’ve stayed dead. Easier that way.**

_Christ, Harry... And I thought I was the fucked up one..._

**Tell me about it hahaha**

**Don’t worry about it though**

_I’m way too drunk -or maybe too sober- for this conversation. I’ll have to swing by the cellar later._

**Are you sure, there’s nothing I can do?**

**It’s pretty shitty, the situation you’re in.**

_You did enough already. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you, so give it a rest and stop worrying._

_I’ll be fine._

**No you won’t.**

_It’s not your concern anyway._

**It is now. I can’t just sit there and let it happen.**

**I know what it’s like to live a life that’s not yours, to maintain appearances and make the most of what you get. It will eat you alive, piece by piece, trust me.**

_Well it’s not as if I had much choice about it now, is it?_

_I would have never thought in a million years you were like this._

**Like what?**

_All cynical/philosophical/realistic and… making sense?_

**‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me’**

**^^**

_Quoting me back now? My my Potter haven’t we changed..._

**Out of curiosity, how did you think I was?**

_I don’t know. More Gryffindorish. Some kind of brainless jock with daddy issues and a brave little soldier complex?_

_The guy who would save the day with cheesy punchlines and get the girl at the end?_

**So you’re the one talking about Daddy issues here? Quite risky terrain I would say hahaha**

_Touché._

**But your description does struck uncomfortably close to home, or at least it used to.**

_Except for the girl part ^^_

**Yeah**

_Sorry I may have pushed it too far there_

**Don’t worry.**

**Gosh I can’t believe you’re actually saying ‘sorry’ in a conversation.**

**Said conversation being btw kinda… pleasant? Wtf.**

**I’m still expecting this to be a huge prank Slytherin style and to read the texts in the tomorrow edition of the Daily Prophet.**

_..._

**What?**

_Nothing, I guess I deserve that kind of reaction._

_But it’s still not pleasing to hear it._

**Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.**

_Don’t apologize! Like I said, I bloody well deserved it. And I still do._

**I don’t think you do.**

_What?_

**Well, I guess what I’m saying is that… I forgive you?**

**Still there?**

**Draco?**

_Yes, I’m still there_

_It... it means a lot, thank you, Harry. Really._

**Bah, don’t mention it.**

**I’m very big on “the past is the past” these days.**

_Well I suppose you of all people need it most._

_It’s a freaking miracle you’re not crazy by now._

**I never said I wasn’t. And I could say the same about you, you know.**

_May I remind you that I’m drunk-texting my former arch-enemy in the middle of the night?_

**And should I point out I’m answering? ("Arch-enemy"? Really?)  
**

_Yeah, that in itself is a sign that the natural order is hella disrupted_

**I suppose.**

**I have to say, it feels surprisingly ‘normal’ talking to you though.**

_Um... thanks._

_And likewise._

**So I shouldn’t expect to be hexed into oblivion next time I see you then?**

_Nope. Should I be worried?_

**Nah. I’ll try and restrain myself.**

**Though history showed I suck at it when you are concerned. You always had a gift to get under my skin.**

_You and me both!_

**_I don’t even know why you drove me crazy in such a unique and insufferable way._ **

_Did I?_

_But yeah you did too._

_Though I have a pretty good idea why._

**Meaning?**

_Erm nothing._

_Just that you were an annoying prick, that’s all ^^_

**Look who’s talking! You bullied me at every turn and tried to get me expelled!**

_I don’t deny it._

_I did always like a fight back and I must admit you were the best in that department!_

**Flattered, I suppose?**

_You should be. Not everyone gets my undivided attention like you did at school ^^_

**Wow, your 'undivided attention', honoured.**

_Well it’s not my fault you were obsessed with me ^^ what can I say it’s nice to feel noticed xD_

**You were the obsessed one! Don’t try and pin this on me you slimy Slytherin!**

_Don’t act like you didn’t like our little fights, you prudish Gryffindor!_

**Well, maybe a little. Especially Quidditch I would say. It did higher up the stakes.**

_Tell me about it! My father locked me in the cellar for three days and took my wand for the whole summer after you won the cup in second year!_

**What???**

**I don’t know what’s worse, the casual tone or the actual content of your sentence...**

_Don’t sweat, It wasn’t that bad._

**If you say so...**

_Well, I think I’m up for the greatest hangover in History, so I should probably go and lie down a bit._

**Yeah, sounds like a plan haha**

_So, thank you again for everything and for not blocking me of course._

**Haha still can’t believe I didn’t! But you’re welcome. It was... nice.**

_Yes, it sure was._

_Highly surprising and even entertaining!_

**Haha**

**I did my best ^^**

_So, do you mind if I text you again sometime or should I leave you alone?_

_(I’d understand if you wanted me to)_

**No, not at all! I’ll try and keep our next chats as diverting as this but it will be hard to top!**

_Challenge accepted._

**Deal.**

_Goodni-morning then, Harry_

**Good hangover, Draco!**

_* puking emoji *_


	2. Late shift and hungry snake

Harry collapsed on the couch, closer to the dead than the living after a double shift that left him on the verge of passing out. He hadn’t slept for way too many dozens of hours and couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

Something heavy and warm crawled over him with a sleepy hiss and Harry smiled.

“ _Hey, Al_ ” he said affectionately in Parseltongue “ _looking for a warm snuggle, I suppose?_ ”

“ _Warm, yes-yes-yes_ ” confirmed the beautiful crimson-red and golden-bellied snake.

“Mmmmh” he answered, not surprised.

“ _Snack?_ ” asked the sleepy reptile hopefully, his tiny snout rising to face Harry’s heavy eyes.

“ _Yes, in a minute, I promise…_ ” he trailed off.

A sudden beeping sound accompanied by a strong vibration woke him up hours later. The snake was gone and so were his glasses. Muttering dark imprecations, Harry groped around him for the round spectacles like he did a billion times before. He found them, put them on and turned to the source of the sound: his phone.

The refined glassy object looked out of place in this magical old home and Harry had struggled with the spells to make it work around magic.

He had received the smartphone at Christmas a few years ago from a very red and embarrassed Dudley who gave it to him to ‘stay in touch’. The gesture was surprising from the former bane of his existence but Dudley had changed a great deal since then and Harry was glad they managed to salvage their relationship and create a connection, however tenuous.

Since they didn’t see each other very often, Dudley had come up with this idea to remain in contact. At first, Harry had had a hard time learning how to use it but he had to admit it was quicker and simpler than owls. His cousin sent him efficient and concise texts from time to time to let him know what was new in his life -he had gotten married and his wife was expecting at the moment- and Harry made a point of always answering with what he could tell Dudley of his daily ~~life~~.

Very enthusiastic about the whole thing, Luna -who was living with Harry at that time while waiting for her house to be rebuilt- had got one the same year and was since drowning him in quirky messages, as expected.

But now, the phone was part of another pleasant ritual between him and a certain Slytherin who had the gift of contacting him on the worst possible timing. Like right now for instance.

But Harry couldn’t deny the little jolt he felt every time he heard the ‘bip!’ notifying him he had received a text. In his dull daily grind including –exclusively- going to work with less and less enthusiasm then going home and crashing on the bed until his alarm went off the following morning, the witty and funny conversations were like a bucket of fresh air.

He reluctantly dragged himself to the kitchen where he set a frugal meal in motion with slow moves and a fuzzy head. Harry couldn’t stand having Kreattur here slaving for him and constantly reminding him of Dobby and Sirius, so he had offered him to remain at Hogwarts with the other house-elves. He sometimes came to visit on his days-off.

Harry pet an impatient snake who had the munchies then gave him a piece of meat after what, Al went on his way to a nap in a warm nook somewhere in the house.

When he finally sat in front of a simple dinner composed of hot steamed potatoes and cheese, he finally allowed himself to take a look at his phone.

_So, how is it going in the boring life of Auror Potter?_

_Another old witch who lost her cat?_

**No, today we had the privilege of intervening in a domestic fight. I got covered in pumpkin soup and Ron ended up with whiskers.**

**At least the report will be entertaining...**

_I was actually joking, but this is priceless._

_The Weasel with whiskers, give me a minute_ _to engrave this image in my memory xD_

**I’ll admit it was something to behold haha**

**and Hermione’s face when he came home XD**

_So this is where goes our taxpayer’s money, huh?_

_How bloody outrageous! (I’m not sure we’re paying_ _any taxes knowing my father, but still!)_

**Well, at least I’m not removed from active duty, so I got that going for me ^^**

_Removed from active duty? On what grounds?_

**On the grounds that I’m “reckless and endangering my safety and my colleagues’”**

_Wtf_

**The thing is, they’re looking for an excuse to put me in a desk job where I’ll stop going against their stupid decisions and be the perfect poster boy for the DMLE...**

_Those slimy gits..._

_What did you do?_

**I threatened to quit if they removed me from the field**

_Of course you did..._

_Did it work?_

**Yes. Now I have the worst assignments and shifts but I’m still on the field. Victory, I guess?**

**They couldn’t have handled the bad publicity I suppose.**

**Not after all the bad rep about corruption at the Ministry...**

_Well, that’s reassuring coming from an Auror!_

_But don’t lie to me, I know you’re trying to get sacked just to sit on your arse all day, enjoying your fortune and doing nothing, you lazy-ass Gryffindor!_

**Busted! Damn, you can see right through me...**

_It’s not that hard honestly xD_

_I knew from the first day I met you how a lazy and arrogant cunt you were ^^_

**Hey!!! (Arrogant, really? Mr Swagger- Like-I-Own-The-Bloody-Place?)**

_I don’t know what you’re talking about_

_I’ve always been an example of humility and tolerance_

**Yeah, you keep telling that to yrslf**

**You poncy bastard**

_I’d rather be a poncy bastard than a self-righteous arse ;P_

**You couldn’t be anyway, you have no morals xD**

_Oh yeah I forgot I was talking to “Mr Moral Fortitude”_

**God I had forgotten about that…**

_I’ll never let you *devilish laugh*_

**Ooh I’m scared *tired scream***

_When was the last time you slept a real good night?_

**Two years ago? I don’t even know anymore tbh ^^**

_Then go to sleep, you moronic twat!_

_Don’t give any more excuse to your boss to show you up_

**Yeah, you’re probably right**

_Let me screenshot that_

**Arrrrgggh, you’re a huge pain in the ass, do you know that???**

_That’s what they all say… *wink*_

**Oh God, that’s it I’m off to bed.**

_Hahahahahahahahaha_

_Goodnight Harry_

**G’night**

_Don’t get killed by any old witch, will you? I’d have to get revenge and just talking about it, I’m bored already_

**Yeah, sure, always happy to be of service, cunt!**

_You would get bored without my cutting and riveting remarks_

**Yeah, whatever you tell yrslf ^^**


	3. Champagne Supernova

Draco was holding the window casing so hard his knuckles had turned white. He gazed at the horizon, as if staring hard enough at those green hills would somehow make him disapparate and run away from this nonsense.

He was wearing luxurious formal robes and felt suffocated under the layers of thin and expensive fabric that clung to him like a second skin, covering him and who he truly was, erasing his being forever.

“I figured you needed a drink” said a deep voice behind him, making him start.

When he turned back, he gaped at the sight of a tall dark-haired man staring at him with mischievous eyes and holding two flutes of champagne.

“What the hell are you doing here??” managed to answer Draco.

“Well, you did invite me, you know?” He rummaged in his inside pocket and threw him a white cardboard engraved in silver letters. “Or at least I figured your father did. I must say, he’s quite bold in his reconquest of the lost family shine. Practice, I guess.”

He chuckled lightly.

“Are you wearing a muggle suit?” said finally Draco whose bewilderment reached heights he never suspected existed.

“Yeah, I thought it would annoy him the most. I considered pink robes but this is probably worse.”

The wizard looked indeed quite striking wearing a dashing black and white tuxedo, fantastically contrasting with the untamed mane of jet-black hair and the juvenile round spectacles.

“So, about that drink? Are you gonna take it or you’re planning to keep looking at me like I’m the Bloody Baron?” He smiled indulgently and held the glass closer.

“Yeah, of course, sorry. I just can’t believe you’re here, today on top of everything…”

Draco slowly reached the hand Harry was holding in the air and took the glass filled with the pale-gold bubbly liquid. He took a sip, still not believing the scene.

“How could I let pass the opportunity? I never saw a Pure-Blood Wedding Party.” he said with a light tone and took a sip in his own glass. The Gryffindor reminded him so strongly of Dumbledore at this moment, babbling airily as if it was perfectly natural for him to be here, that a shiver ran down his spine.

“Why are you really here?” asked Draco cautiously.

“I’m here to offer you a way out.”

All traces of humour and lightness had deserted his face and tone. He looked determined and stubborn. The atmosphere of the room changed instantly as those viridian eyes searched his with an impossible intensity.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“And how do you intend on doing that, may I ask? There are dozens of wizards around us who are waiting for the smallest excuse to tear you to shreds after what you did to the Dark Lord, you must know that. Showing up here is already suicidal.”

“I know.”

“But you don’t care.”

“I don’t.” He smiled simply.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Well, you know me, when I’m not doing something stupid, I get bored.” Harry smiled viciously. “And my work doesn’t exactly live up to my expectations on that front these days”

“I’m starting to think Skeeter was right, you _do_ have a death wish.”

Harry’s smile faltered. Silence stretched between them for a brief moment.

“Come with me.”

“What?” Draco avoided the fire of the green orbs and went to the door frantically, closing it silently after looking outside to check if anyone had heard them. “You’re crazy!” He hissed in a low voice.

“I can protect you.” said Harry calmly. “Come with me at Grimmault Place, you can stay as long as you want and think about what you want to do.”

“What I want to do? Don’t you understand? Once I get away from here, the only thing I can hope for is a quick and merciful death. I’ll be hunted, forever.” Fatality coloured his tone. “I appreciate your offer, truly. But I can’t accept.” He returned to the window and looked at the green hills once more, turning his back to the Gryffindor.

“I have to do this. It’s ok, it could be worse.”

“You’re ready to live a lie for the rest of your life? To stay with those people who hurt you and coerced you since you were born? You owe nothing to them!”

“I know that. But I cannot escape, it’s too late for me.”

“It’s not, I’m offering a way out.”

“Yeah, like Dumbledore did, and look where it got him… He died because of me. I can barely cope with it, if you get hurt too, I couldn’t live with it.”

“You’re wrong. There are things you don’t know about Dumbledore’s death. It wasn’t your fault.” said Harry softly.

“Whatever you’re trying to do, just stop.” Draco’s tone was ice-cold. “I’m not putting you in that position, you don’t know them. And it’s not worth it.”

“I’m not afraid of them. And Draco, it _is_ worth it.”

The pale blond couldn’t help but notice it was the first time he heard the Gryffindor say his name. Draco heard the light rustling of fabric when the dark-haired wizard moved. He could feel Harry’s presence just behind him.

“Come on, trust me. We can handle them.”

Draco turned back and looked at Harry’s expectant face. He could see the hope and determination burning in him. The knot in his chest grew tighter.

“No.” He paused and swallowed hard. “I think you should leave now, Harry.”

“I thought you might react like that.” said Harry tiredly, he sighed.

“And what was your great plan to win me over, you stubborn Gryffindor git?” said Draco bitterly.

“This.”

He touched his forehead and Draco’s last conscious thought was how hot the tanned skin was against his, then everything went black.


	4. Very Bad Trip

When Draco woke up, he was in a bed that wasn’t his in a room he didn’t know. He had a familiar feeling about the old decoration and the engraved four-poster bed but didn’t have a clue about where he was. His head was throbbing with a bad headache and he was feeling weak and dizzy.

“For Merlin’s sake, what the actual sodding fuck...?” he muttered and rose up on his feet. He was wearing dark grey pyjamas and his clothes were nowhere to be seen.

Both scared and curious, the pale blond crept out of the room and down the huge stairs of the house. He finally heard a clanking noise and someone… hissing? It came from a door on the left that was opened. Draco took a careful peak inside and his heart missed a beat.

“Good morning sunshine” said Harry tentatively when the Slytherin entered the room, studying his face. He was sitting at the table of a dark underground kitchen with high magical windows, a smoking teapot in front of him accompanied by two teacups and a pot of sugar.

“What did you do?” said Draco in a panicked voice. Harry’s smile disappeared.

“Listen, Draco-” But Draco didn’t let him finish.

“No, _you_ listen! You have no idea what you’ve done!!! They will eventually find me and kill me but I don’t care, I’ve been prepared for this for years! Why do you think I was going along with it? I wasn’t supposed to make it anyway!”

His voice was rising up, becoming more and more heated until he started shouting.

“But now, they will kill you too and I can’t, I BLOODY CAN’T HAVE THE BLOOD OF SOMEONE ELSE ON MY HANDS!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT??? BUT NOW IT’S TOO LATE!!! YOU HAD TO PLAY THE HERO AND JUST SAVE THE DAY, DIDN’T YOU??? I DIDN’T WANT TO BE SAVED, HARRY!!!”

The dark-haired wizard was getting worked up too and his green eyes flashed with anger. He shot up.

“I COULDN’T JUST STAY THERE AND WATCH IT HAPPEN! WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE IN MY PLACE, UH?”

“NOTHING!!! I’M A BLOODY COWARD, REMEMBER???” Draco slammed both his hands on the oak table and stayed there, his furious rictus facing Harry’s. They were both panting and glaring at each other, trembling with rage.

“That’s not true.” finally said Harry.

“Oh, yes it is. I am a coward and a murderer and a FUCKING DEATH EATER, DON’T YOU FORGET THAT!!!”

Harry couldn’t answer to that, he was too angry.

“I gotta go” he said brusquely and stormed out, leaving Draco alone with his fury.

“Fucking hell, what am I going to do now?” Whispered Draco, drained from all energy, as he let himself fall on the nearby wall and slide down the floor with a defeated expression.

That’s when a huge snake crawled on his lap, coiling his muscled body around his arms and on his legs. His triangular crimson head rose up to Draco’s face and the golden eyes watched him with unmistakable intelligence and undecipherable intent.


	5. Reminiscences

“Of course, only Potter would speak Parseltongue yet have a Gryffindor coloured snake” growled Draco. He had been sitting for hours, afraid of the tiniest movement. After watching him for the longest fifteen minutes of his life, the snake had coiled around himself on his lap and fallen asleep.

Draco couldn’t feel his lower limbs and was waiting for a miracle on the cold tiles.

Suddenly, the noise of the entrance door resonated in the hall and the kitchen.

“Draco?” said Harry with a hesitant voice. “Draco? Are you there?”

“Yes” answered the pale blond evenly. “Over here, in the Kitchen”

“Look Draco, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Harry entered the kitchen but didn’t see him, focused on his apologies and the removal of a big and heavy dark trench coat.

“Well, I’m sorry too but before engaging in sappy effusions, could you call off you beast? I can’t feel my legs anymore.” said the Slytherin moodily.

“What the f-” he gaped at the sight and then laughed “Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, he’s quite clingy when he’s at it”.

“ _Al, please let my friend move._ ” he said in Parseltongue.

Draco shivered when he heard the whistling sounds coming out of the Gryffindor’s mouth.

“ _Friend? Smells gooooooodd_ ” approved the snake, slowly uncoiling.

“ _Yes, he does_ ” answered Harry, amused. He crouched down in front of Draco and held his arms so the snake could wrap himself around them. The dark-haired wizard put him on his shoulders. “ _Likes snuggles too_ ” said Al with a very satisfied and provocative tone. Harry laughed frankly this time.

“What is he saying?” asked Draco, curiosity taking the best of him.

“He’s trying to make me jealous, and says that you smell good” said Harry, apparently in high spirits. “Need a hand to get up?” asked the Auror very neutrally.

“Yes” said the pale blond through clenched teeth, humiliated by his own weakness.

Harry wrapped his strong arms around Draco’s torso and lifted him up like he weighed nothing in a cloud of spicy-woody scent. They looked at each other awkwardly, disturbingly close. There was nothing but a thin layer of fabric between them and Draco felt the warmth and firmness of the Auror’s body. Then Harry cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “Good to go?” he asked lightly and let him go progressively, still holding his arm.

“I think so, yes” answered Draco feebly. He sat on a wooden chair near the table and massaged his stiff and painful legs.

“How about a drink, something to eat and a chat in the dining room?” asked Harry with a concerned tone. “I can lit the fire, you must be freezing”

“Yeah, that sounds great, thanks.” he paused, embarrassed “Would you know, erm... where my clothes are by any chance?”

“Oh. Sorry yes... I-I had to, erm… change your clothes, I-I didn’t… you know…” stammered Harry while blushing profusely “I’ll get you some clothes” he said hurriedly and ran from the room.

*

A few minutes later, they were sitting on the carpet of the dining room, in front of the fire with a glass of Firewhisky in hand and the leftovers of a huge dish of Italian pasta between them.

“That was very good, thank you. I had no idea you knew how to cook” said Draco cautiously. They had eaten in relative silence and he didn’t know how to broach the heavy subject of his arrival here.

“Thanks, I had to learn rather young. It was kind of a chore at the time but I do enjoy it now, when I have the time and energy.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands tiredly. The Auror seemed younger and older at the same time without the round spectacles. And his eyes looked deeper, more intense. Draco felt weirdly vulnerable when he met the green gaze.

“Why did you have to cook so young?”

“Erm… It’s a long story. You probably know that I was raised by muggles. Well, they hated my parents, they hated magic and they hated me. I learned I was a wizard on my eleventh birthday and before that, I was kinda treated like their servant. I had to cook for them, clean, tidy, etc.”

Draco was speechless. The Golden Boy of the Wizarding World, raised like a slave?

“Harry… I… I don’t even know what to say…”

“It’s okay, it was along time ago.”

“Still, I had no idea you had to face that… And you didn’t know you were a wizard?

“I was told my drunk parents died in a car crash and that I was lucky my aunt and uncle took me in after that. And I believed them. Until Hagrid came, barging the door and telling me I was a Wizard.” Harry chuckled. “He brought me cake. It was my first birthday cake ever.”

The young man seemed lost in his memories, staring at the forms in the fire, a light smile on his lips.

“Then he took me on Sirius’ flying motorbike, brought me to Diagon Alley and helped me get all the things I would need for Hogwarts. He also gave me Hedwig as a birthday gift. And there, I met you.” Harry turned his head and looked at him.

“And I insulted the only person that was ever nice to you.” said Draco bitterly “No wonder you turned me down when I offered to be your friend.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Harry smiled “How about we start over?”

Thunderstruck, the pale blond looked at the hand Harry was stretching out in front of him.

He shook it like in a dream and felt the warm, rough skin wrapped around his. A small smile blossomed on his face and mirrored Harry’s.

* * *

“I’m sorry I yelled at you” said Draco after remaining in a comfortable silence for a while.

They were both sitting on the rug, their arms encircling their knees and looking at the fire.

“I’m sorry I yelled back” said Harry calmly. “And about what you said… You’re right. It wasn’t my choice but… I couldn’t let you sacrifice yourself like this. I have blood on my hands too, and not only from enemies, you know.”

“I understand why you did it” said finally Draco “I just wish you hadn’t.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s just that… I’m worried about my mother.”

Harry didn’t answer. He understood perfectly well what Draco felt. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself and hoped Draco’s mother wouldn’t suffer from his foolishness. The Auror knew she was the only one that had been there for the pale blond.

“And don’t get me wrong, in a very selfish way, I’m glad you did. But it doesn’t feel fair.” Added the pale blond, lost in his thoughts.

It was very strange for Harry to see Draco sodding Malfoy sitting casually on the carpet, sipping whisky with him and wearing his own clothes. The dark-haired man took a closer look at his unlikely guest. He was thinner than what he remembered from school but taller. His face was strained and his aristocratic features were marked. The fire cast golden shimmering lights on his white-blond hair and pale skin, accentuating his long pointy face, straight nose and proud cheekbones. His unrefined clothes made him look like a teenager, far from the sophisticated outfits Draco always sported.

Once again, Harry mused on the succession of events that led the pale blond here in his own house. It was one thing to text, another to have a drink with you former sworn enemy with your wand in the kitchen. But he enjoyed the simple pleasure of having company. And had realized talking to him was surprisingly easy, like it had been through the phone.

“So this is the part where I owe you my life, again.”

“Don’t start. You owe me nothing” said Harry in a dark warning tone.

“Nothing but my life, my safety, the clothes I’m wearing and the roof I have over my head” said Draco with a wolfish smile. “I’m starting to wonder about the existence of hypothetical ulterior motives. Am I going to end up as a high-end prostitute?”

Harry burst out laughing. They were soon both rolling on the floor and holding their sides, tears streaming down their cheeks. Harry had never heard Draco laughing. It was a brilliant sound.

 _God that felt good!_ Thought Harry. He hadn’t laughed like that in ages.

“Actually, that’s a good plan” said Harry, still panting “I think you would make a good load of money” He laughed and took a street accent “A pretty and expensive thing like yeh, yeh would make millions!”

Draco fluttered his eyelashes seductively and said in a sensual voice “Well, would you know any interested parties to refer me to then...?”

Harry answered way too quickly and enthusiastically for his own taste.

“Hell, yeah!” he said and felt a huge blush creeping on his face. Too much whisky, for sure.

“Good grief, you definitely have shady connections then, Auror Potter!” laughed Draco, oblivious to his trouble.

“You have no idea” said Harry almost in a whisper. “I think I’m way past tipsy” he added, looking at his glass critically. Then he lied down on his back, propped up by his elbows, his head rolled back.

“What a lightweight!” sneered the Slytherin.

“Hey, not fair! I don’t practice alone, you know!” he slurred indignantly.

“Shame! Now look at you, all drunk and vulnerable, what if I decided to take advantage of you?”

Harry didn’t respond, he was way too drunk to trust his answer. He just stared at the pale blond and shrugged. Then, his elbows gave way and he slumped down on the old rug. Less than a minute later, he was asleep with a goofy smile.

“So much for the Great Hero of the Wizarding World” said Draco sternly.


	6. Firecall

“... I think Molly is this close to come barging in Grimmault Place. If you miss another Sunday brunch at the Burrow…”

“Can’t you tell her I’m swamped at work?”

“I did, that’s the only reason you’re not currently being force fed. But it won’t stop her long.”

“Merlin, I don’t need that right now… I-I’ll write her something.” he said grudgingly.

“You know she means well”

“Yes, of course I know that” he smiled warmly.

“So… Ron told me Adrian is moping around in the Bureau. And he asked after you, repeatedly. He says you’re avoiding him.”

Harry’s shoulder line went stiff, his profile as sharp as broken silex.

“Gosh, your boyfriend is such a gossip…” he sighed dramatically.

“What happened? Last time I saw you two, you looked happy.”

“Yeah well… It didn’t work.” It was clear with his tone that he wouldn’t say more and Hermione was clever enough to pick it up.

“I should warn you that Ron is rounding up everyone we know to find you a date. He is quite obsessed about it.”

“Of for Merlin’s sake please tell him to stop. After that fiasco, I think what I need is a break from dating right now.”

“Harry…”

“I don’t have time for this anyway with the hours I’m doing” he said and yawned.

A pause stretched between them.

“They’re still giving you a hard time at work?” she asked anxiously.

“I’m fine Hermione, really don’t worry.”

“Harry, you look exhausted…”

“All Aurors look exhausted, it’s part of the job description” he chuckled but the bushy brunette’s worried look didn’t falter.

“You’re still having nightmares? Maybe you should see someone, after what you went through...”

“Look, Hermione, I _am_ fine, ok? Stop worrying over me.”

“Harry… It’s like Umbridge all over again, she was torturing you and you didn’t even tell us…”

“Believe me, it’s not that bad. I’m okay.” he said stubbornly while rubbing the old scar on his hand ‘ _I must not tell lies_ ’. Hermione knew better than to push the matter further but she was sure Harry was hiding something and it was clear on her face. A slight blush crept on Harry’s neck.

“Look Hermione, I have to go, catch you later?”

“Yes, sure Harry, why don’t you come over and have dinner with us someday?”

“I’d love that” he said with a little affectionate smile.

“Great, let us know when you’re free and we’ll arrange something” she hesitated “We love you, you know.”

“Yes, I know Hermione and… I know I never say much but… it matters. A lot. You and Ron, you’re everything I have, you know that, right?” he smiled shyly, scratching the nape of his neck, watching pointedly at the floor.

Hermione beamed and her eyes looked shiny. She reached with her hand then realized he was too far and let it fall at her side again. Harry cleared his throat and the bushy brunette shook herself.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you alone now! See you soon, Harry!”

“Bye ‘Mione”

The firecall ended and Harry stayed in the same sitting position, lost in his thoughts. He finally sighed, rubbed his eyes and stood.

Draco retreated in his room, dozens of questions furiously buzzing in his head.


	7. A slap on the Snout

“You scaly little rascal! I’ll turn you into a handbag, or even better, slippers!” hissed the tall blond acrimoniously, carrying a squirming snake out of his room.

“Trouble in paradise?” scoffed Harry who was passing by on his way to work.

“Your bloody beast tried to strangle me in my sleep… again!” he snarled.

Harry tried not to laugh at his dishevelled state, he picked up the snake who coiled around his neck and shoulders.

“He just likes warm places, that’s all! See? He coils around my neck all the time and I never suffered from it, I promise” he smiled candidly. “I thought you Slytherins liked snakes, with it being your house symbol and all” teased the dark-haired man.

“And I’m sure you’d love nothing more than a cuddle-session with a lion” answered Draco acidly “at least it would rip that stupid smile off your face”

“Come on, Al is harmless, I swear.”

“How the hell does he manage to get in my room with the door closed, I’d like to know!”

“That I never did figure out. I think he found some cracks in the walls and ceilings” said Harry thoughtfully, reminding him of a notoriously famous Basilisk.

“Oh, that’s just perfect. Bloody fantastic!” exclaimed the blond. “Well, I’m off to the bathroom and if I find your thing in the bathtub, so help me God!” he stormed in the bathroom and shut the door forcefully.

“ _You’re in trouble, Al_ ” said Harry very seriously.

“T _his Smell-nice not really calm. Always fretting away. Always hissing no-hissy sounds. No nest-cuddle-softy-skin?”_

“ _Yeah, I don’t think Draco is the cuddly type_ ”

“ _What is a Draco?_ ”

“And STOP hissing behind my back, you rude primitive freaks!” shouted an indignant muffled voice coming from the bathroom.

“ _A huge, over-sensitive reptile that spits fire every time he’s frustrated_ ” joked Harry.

“ _How unfledged. Should get a flap on the snout, like impudent bifid-mouth hatchling._ ” Advised Al.

“ _He should indeed_ ” confirmed Harry with a short barking laugh.

 _Snakes_.


	8. An Eventful Dinner

Harry Apparated home in a rush. He had just the time to take a shower and head for Ron and Hermione’s for dinner. He frantically climbed the stairs and jumped under the shower, banishing his clothes and filling the bathroom with a heavy pine-scented steam. When he wrapped his towel around his waist he froze. Harry cursed himself: he had forgotten to tell Draco. The Auror apparated in his bedroom, threw on some clothes –a deep-blue t-shirt with a pair of faded grey jeans and a black hoodie- and apparated on the first story landing, hair dripping wet and glasses still steamy. Harry politely knocked at Draco’s door. The tall blond opened and Harry blinked, taken back.

“How did you…? Your clothes…?” stuttered the Auror.

“Oh yes, no offence but it felt weird without my clothes so I transfigured some old things I found in the dressing. I hope you don’t mind” answered Draco warily.

He was wearing what looked like a mixture between a muggle suit and formal robes in a dark fabric that contrasted with his pale complexion and accentuated his lean frame.

“No, of course not! I should have offered to buy you some things in Diagon Alley. Though you would have been horrified by my sense of fashion, now that I think about it.” Harry smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah, I think I’m better off with a bit of transfiguration, thank you very much!” said the Slytherin with a disgusted expression that reminded Harry of Narcissa.

“I know perfectly well that I’m not up to your aristocratic standards, you blue-blooded git!” teased Harry “And I think I’d look ridiculous in one of your usual outfits anyway”

“Let me tell you, I’d be more than willing to pay to see that some day!” Draco laughed lightly.

“When hell freezes over…” Harry grumbled darkly. He cleared his throat “Anyway, I’ll be off in a minute and I think I’ll be home quite late, I forgot to tell you I’m having dinner at Ron and Hermione’s tonight.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know, I’ll probably read and try not to get assaulted by that sneaky reptile of yours”

“Don’t mind Al, he’s just obsessed with cuddles. I haven’t been home much these past months and I think he likes you” Harry said with a crooked smile.

“I’ll… keep that in mind” answered the disconcerted Slytherin.

* * *

“Thanks, Hermione, that was great.” Said Harry, sated by the huge dishes of Indian food she had cooked for them. The Dahl had been particularly good, hot and fragrant.

“You’re welcome Harry” she said, beaming. “We should do this more often” she added.

“Definitely” smiled Harry, feeling relaxed.

After a decadent molten chocolate cake, they all moved to the kitchen to chat together while Ron was washing the dishes and Harry dried them with his wand then put them away in the cabinets.

Hermione was sitting on the workbench, something in her expression told Harry he wouldn’t have much respite before a good old grilling.

“So you’ve been busy lately?” she asked with a fake even tone.

_Bingo._

“Actually, yes. Very.” Answered Harry, bracing himself for the scene that would probably ensue.

“And I have something to tell you both.”

“Oh, uh, did you meet someone?” asked Ron clumsily with a knowing smile.

“Hum, no Ron, I didn’t meet anyone.” he hesitated. “But, I do have a new roommate.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were looking for a roommate!” exclaimed Hermione, perplexed.

“I wasn’t really but… he really needed a place to crash and I offered. It was kinda sudden, he was in a pretty crappy situation”.

_Understatement of the year._

“Okay, well, that’s great! Do we know him? Is he from work?”

“Hum, not really…We all knew him at school, though”

“Who is it, then?”

“Hum… Promise me not to freak out, okay?” he pleaded. Ron and Hermione looked at him with obvious puzzlement.

“Harry, what did you do…?” she started, obvious worry on her kind features.

“See Hermione, lately I caught up with him through the phone Duddley gave me and I know we hated each other at school but he really changed and he was in deep, deep shit so I just…”

“Don’t tell me Smith is your new roommate!” said Ron, horrified.

“No, no, not Smith, I promise”

“Thank Merlin, you had me scared for a minute…” Ron laughed.

“It’s… Draco Malfoy.” Harry said the name quickly, as if it could help him get this over with faster. How naïve.

Ron dropped the plate he was cleaning which crashed on the floor with a loud noise. He turned to face Harry, gaping.

“ _Malfoy_? _Draco_ sodding _Malfoy_ is in your house? Harry have you gone bloody MAD??? Did he imperio you?”

“No, no, Ron I swear, he did nothing to me. Actually, I’m the one who… I may have kidnapped him from his parents… I… It’s complicated…”

Ron’s eyes were so wide they could have rolled out of his sockets. Hermione looked like she had been turned into a statue, a look of horror on her face.

“Look, would you just calm down and come to the living room with me? I-I’ll explain everything… Okay?”

A pot of tea, a bottle of Firewhisky and seven nervous breakdowns later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting on the sofa, staring at the void in a semblance of truce… _Or a deceptive period of calm before another storm_ , thought Harry bleakly.

In desperation, the Auror had resorted to show them the texts where Draco explained that he had changed, that he had made mistakes and regretted them way before Voldemort’s sticky end and that he was trying to atone. He had also told them about the glimpses of the Slytherin he had had during the War in Voldemort’s head and that Luna and him had formed a sort of friendship. Since then, his friends were immersed in a deep silence and Harry didn’t dare break it. He just waited for them to say something.

Ron suddenly rose up on his feet and left the room without a glace back. Harry sighed. He would have taken the shouting over the silent treatment. Hermione looked at him with a mixture of doubt and compassion.

Heart sinking, Harry stood awkwardly in the living room and avoided her stare.

“It’s late, I think I’ll head home. Thanks for the food.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and Disapparated home.

* * *

Harry stood in the dark kitchen for a while, rubbing his face and fighting the hollow feeling that had taken residence in his chest. He knew it wouldn’t be easy but he had hoped Ron and Hermione could at least try to understand. The tall dark-haired wizard sighed then nearly had a heart attack when the lights of the room suddenly switched on. He whipped around and his wand was out before he could help it, startling Draco in his smart light pyjamas.

“Sorry” he mumbled and tried to rein in his racing heart rate. “I didn’t hear you come in”

“Nice reflexes” said the slender blond nonchalantly. “I was about to have some tea, care for a cup?”

“Yes, please” Harry let out in a breath and let himself fall on a chair in an exhausted, sagging heap. He removed his glasses and resumed his previous rubbing activities.

“I take it that dinner wasn’t really peaceful?” finally asked Draco with an even tone. He was standing on the other side of the table with a steaming cup of tea in his long pale hands, looking at the hearth. Harry took the cup that had been silently placed in front of him and gulped absently, burning his tongue. He cursed under his breath.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“You told them, then” he added with the same detached voice.

“Yeah.”

“Shall I expect retaliation or eviction?”

“Why do you have to automatically assume the worst?”

“Because I’ve learned than being realistic can usually save one a lot of trouble.”

“Realistic? Did you really think I would kick you out for this? Am I that shallow and suggestible to you?”

Draco answered with a light shrug, still looking at the fire, which cast dancing golden light on his sharp profile and made his eyes glint.

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Said Harry, feeling a bit wounded.

“I don’t think you’re suggestible or shallow, I’m merely trying to be prepared for anything.”

Harry let out a frustrated groan.

“You don’t have to prepare for anything. I won’t change my mind just because it gets complicated. You have my word.”

“How very Gryffindor of you” murmured Draco and Harry didn’t know how to take this.

“I just _had_ to tell them.” he continued “They’re used to come barging in here twice a week, it was bound for a disaster sooner or later”

Draco laughed darkly.

“I never realized I had enrolled for the whole package. Do I get to meet your pleasant colleagues as well? I bet they’ll be as thrilled to see me than Granger and the Weasel. We could bond over a little game of Slytherin lynching” said Draco sardonically.

“I didn’t tell anyone else! I would get fired if anyone heard about what I did” Harry bristled. What was Draco playing at?

The blond turned his head and faced him, his silvery eyes flaring with something raw and implacable. His lips were stretched with a cynical smile.

“You didn’t realize what you were signing up for, did you? Starting to regret already?” said the blond caustically.

“I’m starting to now!” Harry said, his temper soaring uncontrollably. Draco flinched.

“Maybe I should be the one to relieve you of the problem and get away from here”

“You’re not setting a foot out of this house, you’ll get yourself killed!” growled Harry.

“Indeed, thank you for that” exclaimed Draco bitterly through clenched teeth.

“Fuck you” snarled Harry. He stormed out of the room and slammed the door forcefully, making the wall vibrate.

Draco could feel the electric crackle of his magic and follow his furious stomps through the house and the doors slamming on his way. Half way up the last flight of stairs, Harry seemed to finally lose it and the loud crack of Disapparition told the blond he just had vacated the house at two o’clock in the morning.

* * *

Harry didn’t come home that night. He walked for what felt like hours in the cold London streets, his face and fingers numb with the cold. Then, he collapsed on his office chair and stole a few hours of sleep until Ron entered the room and woke him up. After an awkward start, they just ignored each other and focused on their respective paperwork. Harry buried himself in his reports until seven o’clock when he rose up and went home without a word. He had had the distinctive impression Ron was about to say something before he paused at the door but nothing happened.

When he realized, much of the same was waiting for him at Grimmault Place, he almost considered not going back this night either. But then, his inner Gryffindor kicked-in. It was his fucking house after all and he wouldn’t give Draco the satisfaction. With a mixture of exhaustion and defiance, he walked home, letting the cold wind sweep away the stuffy atmosphere of his office. Immersed in his mutinous thoughts, he didn’t notice the cold splatter of rain that drenched him in a few minutes. When he opened the door, Harry was cold, resolute and completely soaked. A delicious smell tingled his nose and he frowned.

At his utmost surprise, Draco was waiting for him in the kitchen, looking almost nervous. He was fantastically dishevelled, all tousled white hair, smeared cheekbone and wrinkled clothes. The Slytherin took in the soaking mess that was Harry and his eyes widened.

Holding a wooden spoon awkwardly, Draco said hesitantly:

“I made you dinner.” he frowned “I tried to anyway.”

The kitchen had been cleaned and was shining everywhere and smelling the familiar and comforting scent of beeswax. The roaring fire and clean chandelier cast festive lights on the gleaming cutlery, china and glasses that had been carefully laid on the oak table. It looked like Christmas.

Gobsmacked, it took several moments for Harry to come to his senses.

“It… smells nice” he said tentatively.

“Are you aware of the fact that you look like you’re melting on the floor?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I didn’t realize it was raining” answered Harry absentmindedly. He spelled his clothes dry, removed his coat and work robes then sat at the table warily, intimidated by the dazzling peace offering.

Draco bent over the Auror to get the two plates, engulfing Harry in a warm, citrusy scent. He busied himself on the stove and a minute later, an outrageously nice-smelling steaming plate was in front of Harry. Draco took the opposite chair and poured red wine in the stemmed glasses Harry hadn’t seen since Luna moved out.

“It’s not much, but I thought you could use a plate of hot food.”

“You’re kidding, it looks fantastic! What is it?”

“Its Cordon Bleu with salad and onion soup” Draco said almost shyly. When he saw Harry’s gaping mouth he added quickly “It’s French”.

“I know what a Cordon Bleu is, Draco” he chuckled “I just didn’t think you knew how to cook is all”

“Well, I’m not an acclaimed chef or anything but, I do know a thing or two” A faint flush had crept on his pale cheeks and Harry felt wildly amused by his obvious embarrassment.

The Gryffindor impatiently threw a huge forkful in his mouth, realizing he hadn’t got anything to eat since the previous night. The crispy-moist-salty-cheesy-oh--god-so-good drew a contented sigh from him and he closed his eyes, enjoying the delicious food. The wine was going perfectly with the food as far as Harry’s meagre oenological experience could tell and the onion soup heavenly warmed his bones. In a few minutes, his dinner was gone.

He inelegantly slumped back in his chair under Draco’s amused gaze and closed his eyes. Harry was swimming pleasantly in a pool of muted fatigue and cheerful satiety.

“That was a bloody miracle” he finally said.

“Thank you” said the pale blond with a tight smile. Then Draco fixated his slate-grey gaze on the stem of his glass, fidgeting on the cool glass with his pale fingers. He took a short breath and raised his grey eyes, holding Harry’s resolutely.

“I’m sorry for last night. It was not only completely uncalled for but also extremely unfair on my part to second-guess you and accuse you like that.”

“It’s alright. It’s not an easy position to be in, and believe me, I can relate.”

“I can imagine.”

“Though if this is your way to apologise, I may rile you up on purpose just like old times” Harry laughed.

“Well, I shall consider myself warned, then.” Draco flashed him with a smile so unguarded and bright that it made Harry blink.

* * *

Ron and Harry had kept ignoring each other the following days when possible and exchanged the minimal amount of words when working together on the field. Harry was sick of it but he kept reminding himself that his friends just needed time.

On Friday, Hermione showed up around seven when Harry was about to call it a day and head home, staring at his parchments fixedly and trying to think about anything else than the fact that Friday was usually their outing night when Ron and Harry weren’t working overtime or stupid shifts.

The bushy brunette knocked and let herself in the room, throwing expectant glances at the two Aurors. Harry kept his head down and pretended acute interest in his report. Ron rose to his feet and put on his coat and scarf. Hermione hesitated for a moment then approached Harry’s desk warily, as if the tiniest movement could make him explode.

“Harry?” she said with a tiny voice “Would you like to come with us and have a drink?”

“Erm… Yes, thanks” he rose a doubtful gaze to her than looked at Ron who was deeply absorbed in the examination of his wand.

“Great!” answered Hermione, sounding considerably relieved. She led the way to a little Muggle pub nearby, constantly blabbing on about the weather, George’s last prank, how the pub was nice and cozy and everything else except from their last discussion. Ron and Harry followed in careful silence and avoided each other’s gazes.

After they were seated on stools in a corner of the tiny dim lit room, they all fell in an uncomfortable silence around their first round of drinks. Harry drank his scotch too fast then they ordered a second round. It was finally Hermione who spoke first.

“It’s terrible.” Her golden-hazel irises were dark and sad and she was holding her cider forcefully with both her hands.

“What is terrible, ‘Mione?” he asked cautiously.

“The way his father treated him. His _own_ father. No wonder he acted the way he did when he was young. It’s terrible. It’s abusive and twisted and… barbaric!” she said in a disgusted tone.

“It is” Harry agreed. But he didn’t push it. A pause stretched out between them and Harry gulped at his scotch.

“I understand why you did it, Harry. You were right.”

She looked up and met his eyes with her sorrowful soft irises.

“Thank you Hermione.” He smiled shyly “I’m sorry I kept it from you… It’s just, it all sort of happened and then I didn’t know how to say it.”

“Yes, I believe you” she chuckled “But Harry, barging in Malfoy Manor alone like that… you could have gotten yourself killed” she said severely.

“I know… I’m sorry… I… just didn’t know what to do. When the day arrived, I just couldn’t let them do this to him.” He said sheepishly, the whisky starting to make his head buzz pleasantly.

“You have to stop rushing headlong into things like this. The War is over and we can’t lose you, Harry” she said softly with a pleading tone that tore at his heart, reaching for his hand. Harry took it and wrapped it in his larger rough palm, a huge lump stuck in his throat. He nodded diligently.

“I’ll try, Hermione. I promise I’ll try.”

He turned around to face the tall redhead who hadn’t said a word, sipping his drink quietly.

“Ron?”

His best friend looked at him intensely, frowning, and took a moment and a big sip of Gin before answering, as if bracing himself.

“I… I get it. I get why you did it. But you should’ve told us. I mean, you could have told me before going there on your own.” He paused. “But I get it. I get it now” and Harry suspected Hermione had something to do with it.

Ron shook his head in bewilderment.

“But… I mean… _Malfoy_? In _your_ house?” he shook his head again. “That’s just fucked up…”

“Tell me about it…” Harry laughed “But you know what, he’s actually… rather ok, decent even. Mind you, he is bloody insufferable sometimes but overall, he’s mostly ok. And it’s nice to have someone in the house sometimes, like Luna used to.” He smiled.

“Why does it always have to be the weirdest people, though? You’re a freak magnet, you know that?” said Ron, the gin starting to make his tone a bit approximate.

“Ron!” Hermione tried to sound scandalized but she was half laughing already.

“Well, for starters I’m a freak too, so it kinda makes sense, ‘birds of a feather’, you know? And did you really think my life would get normal just because the War ended?” he laughed frankly when he saw Ron’s discomfited face.

“Yeah, good point”

They all clinked their glasses and laughed good-naturedly, all tension forgotten.

* * *

After the pub, they all went to Ron and Hermione’s cottage and drank some more. In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea. But Harry was so glad he had friends back that he didn’t care in the slightest about the state he would be in the following morning. After all, it was Friday and he didn’t have to get to work in the weekend for once.

Drunk, again, he decided to Floo home when he realized he saw more than one wand in his hand. In a blur of nauseating green flames and ashes that made him cough and spin his head, he stumbled in the living room and managed not to collapse on the ground. That in itself was a victory and he smiled, very proud of himself.

He then noticed that the light was still on in the room and turned to face Draco, curled up in his favourite armchair with a book. With a small jolt of happiness, he realized that there were such things as Draco’s “favourite armchair” or “usual teacup”. _How very domestic!_ Thought his drunk, happy brain. Or he thought he had until Draco asked:

“What do you mean?” the blond asked with a little startled smile.

“Uh? Nothing, nothing, just… nothing” mumbled Harry incoherently.

“So. You’re drunk again. Is it a habit of yours? And if so, how are you so obviously inept at it?” he chuckled.

“Dunno. May be genetics, though. Sirius told me my Dad was even a worse lightweight than I am. Apparently, he once snogged Lupin and declared his undying love for teapots before crashing from the table he was standing on. Everyone thought he had broken his neck. Turns out he had just zonked out and started snoring.” Harry smiled fondly and let himself fall on the couch. “So, consider yourself lucky I’m not that bad.”

“I see.” said Draco amusedly “Still, you should get back to bed before you pass out on the sofa.”

“Beds are boring” mumbled Harry moodily, his eyes already closed.

“Is that so? And how, exactly are they not living up to your standards?”

“Too big. Too cold. And I don’t like sleeping.” He said petulantly, on the brink of unconsciousness “At least when I’m drunk I don’t scream”

“Fair point” Harry heard, far, far away from him, he smiled and his features relaxed.

“Harry, get up and go to bed. You’ll be in pieces tomorrow if you don’t” said a soft voice.

Harry grunted to mark his discontentment.

“Come on, move.”

He felt something tugging at his arm.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go to bed…” he opened a glassy eye. “You’re way too bossy for your own good” he observed then got up painfully and slowly climbed the stairs. When he crashed on his bed, his last thought was of lemons.


	9. The Wolf

Harry and Ron were discussing strategies for the Department’s newest case involving worrying disappearances when Southwell, an Auror in her thirties with short and spiky black hair passed her head at the door.

“Catesby wants to see you” she said apologetically, pulled a dramatic face and disappeared. Ron sighed and removed his feet from his desk, Harry groaned and stopped playing with his wand and paperclips. They both got up and braced themselves for an unpleasant chat with their Boss.

“I miss Bollingbroke” said Ron dispiritedly. “She was tough but at least she knew her job and she wasn’t just a blasted bureaucrat.” The word sounded like an insult in Ron’s mouth and Harry smiled.

“Amen” he Harry and shuffled his feet along the corridors. A young and pretty secretary led them to the ostentatious room filled with awards and pictures of Catesby obnoxiously shaking hands with all the bigwigs of the Wizarding World. A luxurious and garish antique desk took a good third of the room, with a gold-imprinted leather desk-blotter and a gold quill. Behind it, staring at the window was standing an average-seized sand-haired man with grey streaks and a haughty look that would make Lucius Malfoy proud. He was wearing long and lavish robes, his hands clutched behind his back like the picture of a Muggle Second-World-War General.

Harry and Ron exchanged a mirthful look and tried their best to stifle a snort, what a self-important prick. Harry was sure he had carefully taken the pose for their arrival.

“Aurors Potter and Weasley for you, Sir” announced the petite witch.

“Let them in, Eveleen” said Catesby grandly.

“Auror Potter, Auror Weasley, sit.” He said in a commanding tone with his snobbish voice. They did and waited for him to get on with his usual act.

“As you well know, the Auror Department needs to muster a certain amount of decorum and authority…”

Harry sighed inwardly and tuned him out, focussing on the pattern in the rich wood in front of him. Catesby would get on with his ridiculous decision anyway, no matter what they could say because he was in a position to do so. And because he liked it, Harry suspected.

Widely unappreciated, Catesby was the slimiest person Harry had ever met and the most unpopular Head Auror since the War. Viscous, bumptious, and the worst kind of rule-maniac, he had no idea of the realities of the field and treated his subordinates like lesser beings. Everything was about figures and personal advancement for him and that was it.

Naturally, he hadn’t taken Harry and Ron’s influence from the War inside the Bureau very well and had tried by any means necessary to break them. The problem was, they had contested his strategies in meetings regarding the recent surge in Dark Arts activity, suggesting to tackle the problem at his source before it was too late instead of merely observing.

A suggestion Catesby had received all-at-once like a personal insult, a public humiliation and a declaration of war. A petty, litigious, full-scale, bureaucratic, red tape war Harry and Ron had responded to by ignoring the official guidelines they were imposed on their cases and going at it their way.

He had retaliated by trying to remove them from the field –especially Harry-, disguising an empty desk job as a prestigious promotion that Harry had downright refused, threatening to quit when Catesby had pressured him into accepting the job, showing him up once more. Since then, Catesby had come up with many ways to punish them, something he was obviously very good at. Harry thus wondered what was his latest take on his self-assigned crusade.

“… this is why, keeping in mind the reputation and interests of the Bureau, I decided to assign you new partners so that you could share your experience and excellent results with others members of the force. To share the shine of glory, so to speak.” Catesby paused and an impish smile dripping with sarcasm stretched his lips.

Harry’s blood boiled in his veins, his fingers clutched his wand until his knuckles went white. His magic whirled ominously around him.

“Anything you’d like to say, Auror Potter?”

Harry was about to explode but Ron’s hand on his forearm and his concerned blue eyes urged him to stay calm. He bit down his spiteful -and decidedly rude- answer, simmering inside.

“Well, you can go back to your office, you’ll receive a memo with all the details in the hour. Dismissed.”

Before his sentence was even finished, Harry was at the door, his spine ablaze with fury. He managed to get to their office before snapping but it was a close call. Ron, used to his outburst, had already cast silencing charms and privacy wards that would repel everyone at the door.

“That filthy-blasted-slimy-bugger!!!!!!!” he shouted forcefully.

“I know, I know” said Ron, looking aghast and worried.

Their couch cracked loudly and caught fire suddenly, licking at Ron’s sleeve that started to burn as well. Ron started and doused the brown garment with water then turned to the sofa with practised ease.

“Sorry” said Harry sheepishly, all anger turning in a black simmering pool in the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t mention it” said Ron evenly.

“It’s not that I’m surprised the fucker would do that but… Hell!”

“Yeah…” “You know… I’m starting to wonder if it’s as personal as Catesby’s letting on…”

“Isn’t this personal enough for you?”

“That’s not what I meant. We hate the bugger and he hates our guts, there’s no denying that. But think about it just a moment. He wanted us out of the field, he messed with our cases and reassigned us. What if he’s trying to cover something up?”

“Why would he want to cover up?”

“Come on Harry, you know the rumours about the Bureau. It’s not the first we talk about how the big fishes always seem to get wind of our raids or miraculously disappear from our radars when we start to sniff around their trails.”

“You think Catesby might be involved?”

“I don’t know. I have no proof. But it wouldn’t surprise me, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Fucking hell.”

A grim silence stretched between them.

“So… maybe we should take advantage of our reassignment, you know” Ron said tentatively and a dark eyebrow lifted in inquiry. “Put out a few feelers”

A wicked smile stretched Harry’s lips, his seething anger turning into a bubbly and ominous purr inside him.

“Ron, you sneaky son of a bitch”

* * *

Draco crept silently through the sleepy house, the last thing he wanted was to wake up the Auror. Harry had had a hellish week, coming home every three or four days and sleeping only a couple hours at a time.

He hadn’t told Draco much about what happened with his boss but the fair-haired young man knew enough to fill in the blanks. Obviously, things weren’t all rosy between the Head Auror and the Chosen One. And it apparently resulted in ghastly double-triple shifts, overtime, and a lot of time spent at Ron and Hermione’s.

The day before, Harry had muttered something about “new Dark Arts activity in Britain” and collapsed on his bed without even closing the door. The bugger looked thin enough to be swept away by the wind and his skin had a greyish tinge that wasn’t auguring well. Draco was starting to worry about him, it wasn’t good to be this exhausted on a job that was this dangerous. If there was indeed Dark Wizards active again in the streets, Harry needed to be in his top form, not constantly on a verge of passing out.

But there was nothing he could do but insure the young Auror would get food and come home to a warm and pleasant house instead of a gloomy cold grave.

Draco sighed. The pale-blond’s destination was the living room to get a new book. He wasn’t sleeping much these days and relied heavily on the distraction. He pushed the door and entered the room. The lambent remnants of the fire shed a reddish and shimmering glow in the room. Draco stepped in and approached the wooden shelves near the door, looking for a book that would likely contain something about reconstructive spells. He found an interesting one that he grabbed victoriously.

Suddenly, a little whine nearly jumped the Slytherin out of his skin and he realized he wasn’t alone in the room.

He whipped around in panic and his frantic eyes fell on a vague and sleepy form spread out on the old couch. Harry was fast asleep, sprawled out in a complicated position, his head resting on the arm of the sofa. His glasses were askew and he had obviously tried and given up mid-course to remove his brown Auror robes since one of his arms was still trapped inside the uniform. Mouth slightly open, his breathing was hoarse and a slight tremor was running in his tensed muscles. To complete the picture, one of his feet was dangling off the piece of furniture.

Harry moaned again and his brows tensed, the faint noise snapping Draco out of his stupor. The Auror had probably gotten home very late and had been too frazzled to climb the stairs to his bed. He looked so young and vulnerable in his sleep that Draco was struggling to reconcile him with the man who had fought a Basilisk at twelve, broke out of Gringott’s on a dragon’s back, fought Death Eaters before even being of age and defeated Voldemort in single combat.

“Sirius… no, please…” Harry whimpered lowly. Sudden quivers agitated his body and his face constricted in pain. His breathing hitched and went frantic.

“NO!” he cried out desperately with a rough voice.

On an inexplicable impulse, Draco raised his wand. He had never managed to perform the spell before but something made him try it. The pale blond whispered ‘Expecto Patronum’, focussing on the day he had seen Voldemort’s corpse collapsing in the Great Hall. Nothing happened. Draco creased his white brows and tried again, remembering the way his mother hugged him the morning before he left for Hogwarts for the first time, how proud and excited he was. A flimsy silver mist flickered then vanished. Draco swore silently. He then thought about the relief and elation he had felt when he had seen Harry jump from Hagrid’s arms at the battle of Hogwarts. He had known in this moment that Voldemort would fail, that the War was over because the Gryffindor had survived him, again. He had felt the shift as if the fabric of Fate had been ripped, the thrill of hope and faith flooding him like the warmth of the sun.

Draco hadn’t even spoken the words out loud but a silvery form appeared in front of him, basking the room in an opalescent light. The form shaped itself more precisely by the minute and a moment later, a silver wolf was watching him intently. Draco couldn’t detach his eyes from the magical being, his lips stretched out in euphoria and silver eyes wide with wonder.

Then he remembered the Auror besieged by nightmares and instructed the wolf to soothe him with its presence. The apparition walked slowly and paused in front of the dark-haired young man, then it lightly jumped on the couch, turned around on itself like a dog would and lied down on Harry’s feet. The Auror’s features relaxed almost instantly and his body loosened the tight knot it had become. His breathing eased.

Draco then conjured a blanket and covered the Gryffindor. He sat in a nearby armchair and watched Harry’s relaxed features, a deep swirl of emotions storming inside of him. He had produced a Patronus! Draco couldn’t believe it. He admired the beautiful creature he had created and felt immensely proud and amazed. The Slytherin would have never imagined a wolf. Finding out he was able to conjure a Patronus was like a balm on festered wounds. He was human too. He was.

Draco knew only very few Dark Wizards were able to cast the spell as you needed some good in you to project the pure energy to repel evil. In his quest to redeem himself, discovering that there was indeed some good left in him was like a ray of light in a storm: rare and precious.

His mercury eyes filled with tears as relief and gratitude engulfed him. The tall fair-haired man remained in a state of inner wonder for long hours, in an introspective jubilating turmoil.

When Harry started to stir, he retreated in the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. A sleepy Harry soon stepped in. He removed his brown robes for good and with a critical look banished them. Then the Auror sat heavily on a chair and took the cup of tea Draco handed him gratefully.

“Thanks, I think I need it. That and probably whisky” he rubbed his face drowsily.

“Slept well?” asked Draco warily.

“Exceptionally well, actually” smiled Harry “Hadn’t sleep that well in months! Maybe I should give up the bed and just sleep on that couch” he mused.

Draco smiled widely.

“Great, you were in a dire need of a bit of rest, I reckon”

Harry watched him thoughtfully as the pale blond poured a splash of milk in his own cup and mixed the liquid evenly.

“You look different.”

Draco’s flint-grey eyes shot up, surprise painting his features.

“Different?”

“I don’t know, more… grounded, serene” he said and watched him with his piercing green stare.

“I… did a bit of thinking last night, that’s all.” 

Somehow, what happened in the living room before seemed too private to be shared with him, even if Harry was inextricably linked with it. _A story for another time, perhaps_.

“Oh yeah? About what?”

“This and that, a lot of things actually” said Draco lightly. But Harry wasn’t fooled by his casual tone. He raised one of his eyebrows while drinking his tea silently and said amusedly:

“Alright, keep your secrets then” an impish smile etched on his lips.

They both drank the remainder of their tea in an easy silence.


	10. Old wounds and new ones

A clanking noise accompanied by broken glass echoed in the old house and woke Draco with a start.

“Fucking hell!” came a rough whisper.

The pale-blond opened his eyes, fear filling him for a whole minute before remembering where he was and that he was safe.

A shy ray of light was filtrating under the door of his room. Draco got out of his bed in his pyjama bottoms, still sleepy but damn curious. He opened the door a little and spied through the crack. The light was coming from the bathroom. Through the door slightly ajar, Draco could see frantic movement and hear a steady stream of low imprecations. He recognized Harry’s voice and wondered what he was doing. Struggling with something apparently.

How late was it? Did he just come home from work?

Draco crept out of his room and knocked lightly on the door with his knuckles. The imprecations stopped.

“Everything alright in there?” he asked neutrally.

“Erm… Yes, I’m fine, sorry if I woke you up…” answered Harry sheepishly.

“What happened? I heard shattered glass...”

“Erm, nothing, I just dropped something, go back to sleep, I’ll handle it” Harry seemed calm but something in his voice was off. Draco pushed the door a little further and asked:

“Are you su-” he stopped when he saw the sink splattered with blood reflected in the mirror.

“Harry, are you hurt??”

“Don’t worry, really, I’m fine. Nothing I already-” but he trailed off when Draco opened the door completely and saw the state he was in, his jaw dropping at the scene.

Harry was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his brown robes in a heap on the ground. He was barefoot and his t-shirt was torn and smeared with blood, revealing a gaping wound extending from his left shoulder to his right pectoral, barring his upper body and gushing the crimson liquid. His left arm hanged from his side pathetically and he was holding rolls of bandages in his right hand. Beads of sweat covered his forehead and dampened his wild mane. 

“What the…? What happened to you??”

“Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it looks, I’m fine.” Said he Gryffindor tiredly.

“Harry, you’re literally covered in blood and that wound is longer than my forearm!”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s alright, you can go back to bed. I’ll manage. I’m used to it, really.”

“The hell I’m going back to bed, you stupid Gryffindor prat…” mumbled Draco as he stepped in the door and assessed the damage.

“Really Draco-”

“Oh just shut it and let me think!” snapped the blond.

At his greatest surprise, the dark-haired wizard complied. He must have been truly exhausted and in worse shape than he was letting on.

“Give me that” asked the white-haired man sternly, holding his hand for the bandages. “Have you cleaned up the wounds?”

“Huh… no”

“And you were planning on patching it up like this?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“It’s a bloody miracle you lived to this day…”

“Yeah, I may have heard that one a couple of times before” said Harry with a pale smile, he chuckled lightly.

“I’ll have to cut the shirt in order to clean the cut” warned Draco.

“Go ahead, I didn’t have much hope left about it.”

“Don’t move” ordered the pale blond, entirely focussed on how to proceed. Harry nodded and let his head fall back to give him a better access. He was slightly trembling, probably due to exhaustion and blood loss.

Draco raised his wand and cut the shirt open with precise movements and whispered spells. When he was done, the damaged piece of fabric slided around his hips with a quiet rustling.

Draco didn’t say or do anything for a few moments, rendered speechless by the sight of Harry’s torso. Gone was the scrawny kid he knew at school. His training and the hardships of his job had carved a strong but marked body. The smooth golden skin and harmonious musculature was marred by countless silvery scars of various shapes and sizes, tracing a grim pattern on Harry’s upper body. The wound in itself was rather deep and irregular. The flesh of his torso was also badly bruised. Draco swallowed hard and shook himself internally.

“Do you have any healing balm?” He asked, finally getting a hold of himself.

“Yeah, I probably have some left in that cabinet… I couldn’t reach it with my arm…” said Harry absently.

“Could’ve used your wand…” Draco grumbled and rummaged through the cupboard, finally finding what he was looking for.

“That’s a cheap one.”

“Yeah, well I use quite a lot and I didn’t really see the difference anyway...”

“That’s why you’re looking like a sodding zebra.”

“Good point.”

“I suppose you’re aware of it but let me remind you it’s going to sting a fair bit.”

“Yeah, don’t worry” said the Gryffindor absently.

Draco washed his hands with hot water and cast a sanitizing spell on the wounds and his hands. He then smeared the electric-blue salve on his fingers and approached Harry.

“Ready?”

“Yup. Do your worst.”

Draco delicately brushed the wound with his pale index, trying to be as gentle as possible. But Harry was obviously very used to it, he didn’t even flinch. The only sign of suffering was the erratic and occasional twitch of his chest and upper arms muscles.

As he closed in to have a better view of the wound, Draco was engulfed in the heady scent of the Auror, a mixture of blood, sweat, pine needles and a spicy component Draco couldn’t quite place.

Harry swayed a little and Draco feared he would collapse in the tub. He grabbed his right shoulder to steady him a bit.

“Don’t you fall down and ruin my work, you twat.”

Harry laughed good-naturedly. “I’ll try, I promise.” He sounded sleepy.

“Why didn’t you go to St Mungo’s anyway?” said Draco to keep him awake.

Harry shrugged and winced.

“Urgh, that was stupid. Um, I don’t know, it didn’t look that bad at first I guess. I didn’t realize I was bleeding that much before removing my robes and then I was too exhausted to disapparate there.”

“I see” said Draco disapprovingly, he sighed. “So, what happened to you?”

“Hum, I… was attacked by a guy. He was running an underground network of trafficked potions and drugs. We went in with a team. I got isolated running after the guy. We fought. Unregistered Animagus, turns out. I thought I had him, next thing I know, I was wrestling with a lynx. I neutralized him quickly enough but not before earning this pretty souvenir from our little friend.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

They remained silent for a moment and both men became extremely aware of how close they were. Draco’s stare was stubbornly trained on his task, allowing Harry to watch him at leisure. He never saw the Slytherin that closely before… and not half-naked. In a blood-loss induced haze, Harry studied the nervous lines of Draco’s body, all in sharp edges and angles. His pale skin was almost glowing under the magic lights of the room, like a polished marble statue. He had narrow hips and relatively wide shoulders, his lean build underlined by a lithe musculature. Under the sleek white hair, his slate-grey irises were circled by a line of a darker shade of grey and reminded Harry of those of a feline. They were fixated on what he was doing, his white-blond brows furrowed by concentration. Harry noticed the shadows under his eyes, he wasn’t surprised considering Draco’s current predicament. The green eyes then strayed on the soft and full lips, stretched in a thin line. Harry shook himself mentally. What was he doing? His brains were proper fucked up after the long night, that was for sure.

Draco’s question snapped him out of his reverie.

“Is it painful when you breathe or move?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good, your ribs are okay, then.” He then proceeded to bandage the wound as efficiently as possible.

Harry lowered his head and looked at Draco’s work in progress.

“You’re actually pretty good at that, you know?”

“Well, in my former… line of work… the ability to patch yourself up came in quite handy”

“I bet. I could have used that kind of knowledge too at the time… You would make a good Healer.”

The fair-haired wizard snorted cynically and didn’t answer. After a few flourishes, Draco was done. He paused, looked critically at his work and said.

“Well, you’ll live. But I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for the scar.”

Harry shrugged and the corner of his lips twitched in an indifferent smile, then his stare fell on Draco’s torso, noticing something he had missed during his previous examination. His expression darkened. Harry’s eyes stared at the expense of pale skin -branded by old wounds too- and at the diagonal scar on Draco’s torso. The one he was responsible for.

“Yeah, you’ll be like me now.” said the Slytherin calmly.

Harry didn’t answer. He raised a shaking hand and with slow movements, as if he was under water, brushed the old wound, tracing it with the tip of his fingers. Draco shuddered but didn’t move. His breath quickened and he closed his eyes to escape the scrutiny of the intense green orbs.

“I’m sorry.” said Harry in a whisper.

Draco opened his eyes. He took Harry’s hand in his and pushed it away from the scar.

“Don’t be. I hexed you too that day.”

“I swear, I had no idea the spell would do this.” Harry said with a tortured look. Somehow, it seemed important that Draco knew that.

‘It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” said Draco kindly. He hadn’t let go of his warm and callous hand.

“You cannot fathom how much that memory haunted -haunts- me.”

He bowed his head, filled with powerful emotions: shame, guilt, self-loathing.

Draco kneeled before him and tilted his chin up, searching his eyes.

“We all did things we’re not proud of.” He said softly, tilting his left forearm to reveal the Dark Mark, faded but still embedded in his skin.

Grey eyes locked on green ones and soothed the swirling ghosts inside.


	11. Light-reading and hot shower

“What are you reading?” asked Harry sleepily.

They were in the living room with a crackling fire. Harry was slumped on the couch and the pale blond was curled up in an old armchair with a tattered book.

“A book Luna gave me, from a famous muggle writer called Stephen King. It’s called the Dark Tower” said Draco distractedly.

“Stephen King? Isn’t he the one writing horror/thriller books?”

“I don’t know, this one doesn’t feel very horrific… It’s about a gunman seeking vengeance.”

“Mmmh, I see”

“You read muggle books, then?”

“I read all books as long as they’re interesting.”

Harry chuckled as a cuddly snake wriggled his way on his chest, invading his shirt.

“ _Al, you’re tickling me_ ” said Harry.

“ _Tickles are good, scratchy-nice_ ” answered the snake, unconcerned by Harry’s squirming. The dark-haired man watched the snake closely, admiring his deep crimson colour and his golden eyes, petting his jaws.

“ _You’re going to shed soon_ ” observed Harry.

“ _Yesss, itchy itchy, itchy everywhere_ ” complained the reptile, waving his tail crossly.

“ _But then you’ll be all pretty and shiny_ ” soothed Harry.

“ _Am always pretty. And very very shiny_. _The shiniest_.” Al affirmed.

“ _Of course you are_ ” laughed Harry. The snake coiled around his wrists and his snout bumped his nose gently.

“ _When are you shedding, two-legged-one?”_

“ _Two-legs don’t shed. We just… grow and our skin crumbles and falls out_ ” Harry explained clumsily.

“ _How inelegant. But handy, no itchy-itchy-scratch_ ” observed the snake.

“ _True_ ” the dark-haired wizard confirmed.

Draco’s skin covered in gooseflesh and his hair rose on his neck and forearms. He wasn’t used to hear someone speak Parseltongue so casually. Last time it had been… unpleasant to say the least. But now, it was entirely different sensations than fear and horror that washed over him when he was picking up the quiet exchange between Harry and the snake. The dark-haired man’s way of speaking the strange language was fortunately nowhere near the ominous and bloodcurdling whispers of the dark Lord. His tone was warm and the syllables tumbled lazily from his lips, filled with affection, in an impossible contrast with what the blond had known. Draco had to admit, it was rather… _hot_ to hear the cryptic hissing sounds coming from the Auror’s mouth. To his horror and utter shame, Draco felt a blush cover his cheeks and arousal spark in his loins as Harry continued to produce the delightful and mysterious noises.

Unable to stop himself, he peeked discreetly at the scene. Harry was lazily spread on his belly, propped up on his elbows and holding the snake who listened attentively with his scaled head risen at eye-level. The fire cast dancing lights on is profile and made his glasses shine. The Auror was smiling affectionately and moving his lips slowly, giving out a nonchalant stream of modulated and entrancing hissing sounds.

As his trouble grew stronger and stronger, Draco rose up to his feet and excused himself for the night before his body engaged in more visible demonstrations of its stimulation.

Harry wished him a good night and didn’t notice his red cheeks.

* * *

In the morning, when grey ray of lights started to lay their delicate envelope on London, Harry finally gave up on sleep. He had woken up a few hours earlier with a throat raw from screaming and his head throbbing in pain. He finally climbed down the stairs to get to the bathroom and take a shower. The Auror paused on the landing, all senses in alert. He was pretty sure he had heard something.

 _There!_ A faint sound reached his ears. _Is Draco having a nightmare?_

Harry edged closer to the door of the bedroom. It was shut but the Auror could still hear sounds coming from inside. He listened carefully, trying to figure out if the pale-blond needed his help.

A distinct moan came from the room, then another. Harry froze. Then quickly realized that if Draco was indeed dreaming, it didn’t seem unpleasant at all, rather the other way around. He heard another unarticulated sound escaping from the sleeping Slytherin. Equal measures of shame and lust swarmed over Harry. He couldn’t stop listening to the torrid sounds, fascinated, and pictured the blond trashing wantonly in his bed, his marmoreal skin covered in a thin veil of sweat. His blood was roaring in his veins.

The Auror heard a violent rustling of sheets and tore from the door, his heart racing. Disturbed, Harry quickly hid in the bathroom. He undressed himself absently and stepped into the tub. As hot water flowed over his constricted muscles, he closed his eyes and was invaded by visions of a pale body clutching the sheets, his torso arched up in ecstasy. He was painfully hard and slammed his hands on the hard tiles in front of him, desperately trying to resist the urge to let go and grasp his sensitive flesh to quench the fire coiled around the base of his spine. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he was way too aroused to resist any longer. Harry finally caved in and wrapped his rough hands around the throbbing length. With long and swift back and forth motions he brought himself closer and closer to his release, the tension building up, stifling his moans by biting his lips forcefully. He recalled the softness of Draco’s skin when he had traced his scar in this very bathroom. How would it feel like to touch him, caress him all over? To kiss those lips and lick his ivory flesh? At the idea of his tongue on the opalescent flesh, Harry climaxed. He came over and over with a strangled cry, his brains raked by waves of sharp pleasure.

Harry stood there, panting and quivering under the hot water, steam swirling all around him. He let his head meet the hard surface in front of him with a loud thump, resting his forehead on the tepid tiles. Harry sighed and a wave of despair mixed with panic surged inside him. He watched all traces of his shameful release disappear down the drain and felt sick, sullied, twisted. What was he thinking? How would Draco feel if he knew?

Granted, it had been a long while since he last did anything with anyone but that was no excuse.

Harry thought again about Adrian, one of the trainees he had met in the Auror training program. He was the one who made him realize he could love men too. It was after he and Ginny broke-up, he was a mess and tired, so tired.

Then he had met him and for a time, he had felt reborn under the kind and warm hazel eyes. For months they had exchanged glances and a thrilling game of pretending nothing was going on. It had taken time for Harry to come to terms with it but he had finally surrendered to the guy.

The Gryffindor had relished in those stolen kisses and clandestine touches. But then Harry understood that like Ginny, it was the Boy Who Lived that Adrian wanted and Harry hadn’t been able to go on. He had felt like he was living a lie, borrowing someone else’s life. That was when he had given up on dating, thinking maybe it wasn’t for him. Maybe he was destined to stay alone.

After all, he was alive, his friends were all right and happy and he had a relatively good job. What more could he ask for?

* * *

Draco was drinking a cup of tea in the kitchen, pretending to read the Daily Prophet. He was actually thinking about his mother, alone there; thoughts that had kept him awake once more, as proven by the bluish tinge of the skin under his eyes. What would she think? How hard would his father lash out at her because of his disappearance? Guilt and worry invaded him once more when the pale face of his mother floated in his mind.

“Where the hell are those bloody robes” growled Harry. He had been searching for the damn thing for half an hour now and Draco could feel his frustrated aura all around the house, adding to his own bitterness and worry. He was such a sloppy sod sometimes!

“Just Accio the damn thing, for Merlin’s sake!” snapped Draco.

Harry set a surprised stare on Draco and the tall blond felt bad for a moment. It wasn’t his fault his father was a sadistic bastard that treated his wife like a human punching-ball.

“Okay, okay, don’t get your knickers in a twist, geez…”

“Sorry…” he started “I’m just… It’s driving me crazy to be trapped in there without…” he cut himself. Draco didn’t want Harry to feel guilty about the fate of his mother. “I just need some air, that’s it.”

“It’s ok, I understand.” He paused, deep in thought. “I’ll try to completely ward-off the back garden, I know it’s not much but at least you’ll see some actual light.”

“Thank you.”

“For fuck’s sake, is that the time??? I’m so fired!” he exclaimed and rushed out of the room in a state of mild panic.


	12. Sinister

Lucius was seething, his blood like acid in his veins behind that cold mask of contempt he was so good at putting on. He had spent months, years to rebuild the reputation and fear around the Malfoy name. His disgrace among Death Eaters had been a hard thing to overcome. During the War, the family name had become a joke, something unworthy and degrading. After Voldemort’s defeat, nothing but the fortune he had cunningly managed to retain had kept him out of Azkaban. But he had spent most of its remainder in a new varnish over the Malfoy name and a strong network in the Ministry, gaining favours, offering obscure services and making new contacts without neglecting his old friends, of course.

Slowly but surely, his new strategy had paid off. And the second part of his plan had begun. Because now, the Malfoy family was once again the beacon of power and prestige it was supposed to be. It was also the rallying sign for many wizards of dubious pasts and sinister ambitions. Those who had rallied under the Dark Mark were now left alone, threatened, and the only one that was strong enough to pick up the torch and place them under his protection was him, Lucius Malfoy.

Voldemort’s death had in no way dampened Lucius’ thirst for power. The Dark Lord had been arrogant, and weak, impatient. But Lucius had learned patience and the value of alliance, something Voldemort in his Hubris, had never understood properly. After all, he wasn’t a pureblood and even if he was Salazar’s heir, he hadn’t been raised as such. Thus, he wasn’t familiar with the game and politics among the elite of the Wizarding Society. Sheer power wasn’t everything and Voldemort’s ignorance had finally cost him his victory and his life.

Lucius, on the other hand, had reignited the old ways and forged previous and new alliances. He had found strong support in Eastern Europe, especially in old families like the Hungarian prestigious House Báthory. For hundred of years, they had been kings and princes of the Hungarian Empire until muggles started to rebel and the International Statute of Secrecy marked the end of their glory.

Briccius Báthory, the Head of the Báthory clan and Duke of Latvia, was a clever and prominent wizard. His father, Andrej, had been a strong advocate of Grindelwald, an allegiance that almost sealed his family’s fate. A fact that had deeply scarred his son Briccius. Briccius had been raised in similar beliefs than Lucius and shared the same hunger and vengeful desires. Throughout the years, he had risen in Eastern Europe as a dangerous and wealthy Wizard with deep pockets and deadly friends. Lucius and Briccius, old classmates from Durmstrang back when Lucius had took on a one-year exchange when he was young, had then forged a strong bond that Lucius had carefully rekindled over the years. Briccius was aware of his plans and was entirely disposed to fund Lucius’ attempts to seize power and bring a Wizard rule on Britain, especially if their alliance was to be settled with a blood link. Briccius had indeed offered to bond their families through marriage, betrothing his daughter Belladonna to Draco. It was an excellent match. The young woman was highborn, clever, beautiful, cultured, everything a pure-blooded bride was supposed to be. Not to mention that she would be the key to vast sums of money and an access to a very handy network.

Narcissa had been hard to convince and Lucius finally had to remind her very unpleasantly who was in charge and what was up for discussion in their family. Draco’s shameful past lack of judgement and misguided ways had to be put to an end but that wouldn’t be a problem. Or so he thought. Until he ran away with the Potter boy. Potter, of all people!

Now everything was ruined. He had been humiliated, once again, and publicly, in front of his allies and powerful friends. Only the lie his son had been taken away forcefully by the famous Auror had been able to soften the blow. Now he needed to make a statement. He needed Harry Potter dead, at all costs. He couldn’t fail this time, no matter the consequences. Lucius chuckled darkly at the irony. Once again, Potter was blocking his way. But Voldemort’s failings where the boy was concerned had taught him well. He would annihilate the Boy Who Lived once and for all, his friend at the Ministry would ensure that. And if Draco couldn’t hear reason then… he had become a liability. And liabilities had to be taken care of.


	13. Shepherd’s Pie and crosswords

Harry was lost in his thoughts after a particularly gruelling day at work. He was in the kitchen, cutting vegetables for a Shepherd’s pie with an Indian twist and reflecting about his life while Draco was elegantly perched on the workbench doing crosswords.

The Auror had suffered through a long reprieve from the infamous Belarius Catesby and once again, Harry mused about whether the damned bureaucrat had ever spent more than a week on the field in his whole career. But with Ron and him now trying to figure out if Catesby was just an incompetent power-greedy bastard or just a filthy corrupted scumbag, his musings were getting darker and darker. If the Head Auror was on the payroll of Dark wizards, Wizarding Britain was in deep shit. And Harry had no idea what they would do once the burning question had found an answer. Only thinking about it made his jaw clench and his shoulders tense. This was way above his pay grade.

And here he was, thinking he was finally done with the save-the-world kind of jobs. A three-year reprieve and off you go. But it was more than that. There was a time when he would have been happy and excited to get up for work, no matter what. But Harry had trouble remembering the last time he didn’t groan or sigh when his alarm went off in the morning. And it wasn’t about conniving bosses, boring cases, bad shifts or overtime. When had he started to hate his job? When did everything start to feel this meaningless and foreign to him? Was this what he was supposed to look up to for the rest of his life?

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?” asked Harry brusquely.

“Where did that come from?” scoffed Draco.

“I don’t know, I was just thinking about my job. When I was young, I wanted to be an adventurer. With a hat and a whip, like Indiana Jones” he smiled absently.

“What would an adventurer need a whip for?” asked Draco, lost to the concept of Muggle movies and Harrison-Ford-based badassery.

“I don’t know” Harry smiled secretly.

They remained silent for a while. Then Draco sighed.

“Dragon tamer.” Harry looked at him in bewilderment and blinked several times “I wanted to be a Dragon tamer when I was a child” he laughed.

“I was _obsessed_ with dragons. I could talk about dragons for hours on end. And because of my name, I thought it was completely natural for me to seek the company of dragons, that they would somehow recognize me as one of their own” his face then closed. “Of course, my father quickly disabused me of that idea. It wasn’t befitted to a Malfoy, ergo it wasn’t what I was supposed to dream about.”

“Bastard” said Harry lowly. When he raised his stare, he saw Draco was looking at him with a flickering smile and warm grey eyes. “Well he is” mumbled Harry while getting back to chopping his onions, feeling weirdly vulnerable.

“It’s just that at school, I wasn’t even sure I would make it to adulthood so I didn’t really put much thought in it. And when the War was over, it only seemed logical I would become an Auror. I had fought Dark Wizards for half my life already and it was the only thing I was good at.”

“That’s hardly true. You could have played Quidditch for England if you’d wanted” said Draco wistfully, his eyes lost in the magical windows.

“Nah. Too much attention. I always _hated_ it.” His knife clinked loudly on the cutting board when he cut through a carrot with more force than intended.

“I’m not like Hermione or Neville” he continued “They are smart, cultured, they could do whatever they want” he said proudly.

“Yeah because being recruited by the elite task force of the Ministry and becoming one of the best Aurors of the country without even graduating proves how slow and dense you actually are” teased Draco.

Harry didn’t answer, he laughed and cleared his throat.

“And you, what did you want to be after school?”

“Alive.” Answered Draco darkly. “Free.”

* * *

That night, Draco slept badly, invaded by nightmares filled with glowing red eyes, green flashes, choking black smoke, fire and death. He woke up with a throat constricted by anxiety and raw. He must have screamed in his sleep. Covered with an icy sweat, the pale blond kicked his blanket away and stood in the cold room with his pale blue pyjama pants clinging to his skin with perspiration. Draco let the drum of the water over his shoulders wash away the last remnants of his dream and soothe him. Then, with his towel around the hips, he resumed his favourite past time: staring out the window. He was in no state to read and he liked to watch the morning unfold, coating everything in golden glimmers of orange in the backyard full of weeds and early birds.

It was his little ritual, his secret weapon against the darkness. When he was alone and scared in the night, when the wounds reopened and threatened to drown him in blood, he would think of all those lights, all those times he had watched the sun come up and scatter the shadows, reducing them to nothing.

No matter what had happened during the day, the sun would always be there the next morning and this simple fact, this childlike certainty would anchor him and he would not get lost, not completely, not irrevocably. The light would be there and the shadows would retreat. Eventually.

The sun was beginning to rise above the horizon and the young man moved closer to the window to immerse himself in the spectacle he could probably never get tired of.

This morning though, he caught sight of a very different view. One story below, Harry was standing on the edge of the cobbled decking area, facing the sun, unmoving, with a golden-red snake coiled lazily on his shoulder and around his neck.

With a gasp, Draco realized the Auror was shirtless, only wearing his usual pair of faded jeans that hanged dangerously low on his hips and gave away that his underwear was… missing. Of course Potter would stand half-naked in his garden at seven in the morning.

Trying to focus on anything else than his state of undress, Draco took in the smooth bronze skin outlined in gold by the early sun, the scars shattered everywhere on his back, some old and silvery-white, some new and angry-red. The broad shoulders tensed and Draco could see his breathing was uneven, erratic little cloud of white smoke getting out of his mouth and ascending in the shy golden light.

Yes, Harry had reasons to flee the traitorous warmth of his bed too. Probably more, much more.

Draco was distracted from his gloomy thoughts when Harry moved. Draco reflected it was probably the longest time he had seen the Gryffindor stay still.

Harry was a big ball of restless energy, a bright bundle of nerves, always fidgeting, moving, fretting around. He was rather discreet, probably had learnt to hide it throughout the years, but there was nothing that could cover the electric aura of his magic.

The raven-haired young man delicately put the snake on a sunny stone and strode inside the garden, barefoot and careless. He apparently decided seven a.m. was a good time to tidy the garden and started lifting junk from all over the overgrown and chaotic patch of greenery then piling them in a corner without the help of his wand that stood out of his back pocket. Mesmerized, Draco watched the nonchalant and easy grace of his movements, the harmonious muscles rippling under his tanned skin, the unruly black mane and the metal frame of his glasses catching the sun and glinting periodically.

Inexplicably breathless, he kept on watching intensely when Harry turned back and head towards the little dilapidated shed carrying a heavy log with him, a thin veil of sweat now shining on his upper body. Draco peered at the flushed cheeks, the constricted chest muscles, flat stomach and the narrow hips with a mixture of guilt, embarrassment and an aching feeling he couldn’t quite place.

Harry suddenly looked up and Draco jumped away from the window, flattening himself against he silken-clad wall, heart racing and feeling ridiculous. Ashamed by his very inappropriate scrutiny and his obvious arousal he cursed himself and closed his eyes, trying to banish all images of the half-naked and roughly handsome Auror from his mind but it was as if the taut silhouette had been burned inside his eyelids.

He groaned. The unhelpful dreams were enough as it were even if he miraculously didn’t remember precisely what they were about. Though he had pretty strong suspicions and a general idea about what the green eyes and tanned skin featuring in them were up to.

It was bad enough to be in the Gryffindor’s debt but if he was starting to lust after him like a clueless love-struck Hufflepuff, it was bad. Epically, bang-you-head-on-the-walls, obliviate-yourself, voluntarily-cuddle-with-a-dragon bad.

 _It was nothing_ , Draco kept telling himself. It was a perfectly natural reaction to be turned on by an attractive half-naked sweaty man, and there was nothing more to it. After all, he was only human and the close proximity plus the fact that Harry was the only man he had seen for the past weeks probably explained his dreams. Not to mention how fit the git had gotten since school. Back at Hogwarts, he hadn’t exactly been hard on the eyes either but this was something else. Draco shook himself, _not helping, brain!_ So yes, nothing to worry about, just normal libido behaviour. A bit embarrassing but that was it. Yep. Totally normal.

Draco let tout the breath he had been holding during the whole of his panicked introspection and firmly pushed all sweaty related thoughts at the back of his mind.


	14. Happy Birthday

On the morning of June 5th, Harry knocked on Draco’s door early in the morning. Draco wasn’t sleeping, though. As usual, he had been staring at the window for hours after a wakeful night.

“Draco, you up?” asked Harry’s deep muffled voice through the wood panel.

“What is it?”

“Please get dressed and come to the kitchen, there’s something I want to show you” he sounded excited.

Light footsteps indicated to Draco that he didn’t wait for his answer. His curiosity piqued, the pale blond dressed quickly and walked down the stairs wondering what Harry was up to.

The Auror was rummaging through one of the upper cabinets in the kitchen, his muggle t-shirt revealing a patch of tanned lower back. Two duffle bags were resting on the kitchen table.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” asked Draco warily.

Harry turned around, holding a large tin box in his hand. He stuffed it in one of the bags and turned back, holding a pencil.

“Do you trust me?” asked Harry with a wry smile.

“It’s a little late to ask me that, don’t you think?”

“Good point. Take this then” he held the pencil closer.

“Is it some kind of magical experiment?” asked the pale-blond warily.

“Just trust me, ok?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really” said Harry with a goofy grin.

Draco sighed and took the pencil but Harry didn’t let go. At first nothing happened then came the familiar sensation of a hook connecting to his navel and lifting him up.

_A port-key? What is Harry thinking? Where is he taking us?_

When he felt the spinning stop and his feet were back on a stable ground, he blinked slowly. His eyes were blinded by the light around him. He was… in a huge Quidditch pitch, the morning sun gently touching his face for the first time in what felt like years. A soft breeze went gently through his hair.

“Happy Birthday” said Harry with the widest smile he ever saw on the Auror.

“What..? Where…?” Draco couldn’t finish his sentences, shell-shocked.

“We’re in Dorset. I reached out to Oliver Wood and arranged to book the Puddlemere pitch for the day. It’s heavily warded and as far as he’s concerned, I’m just practicing for the annual Quidditch competition of the Auror division with colleagues. I thought you must have been going mad, trapped inside the house all these weeks.”

Draco was speechless.

“Did I finally manage to shut up Mr Snarky-comeback?” laughed Harry.

“Merlin Harry, I don’t even know what to say…”

“Don’t thank me yet” said Harry mischievously “Put on some gear and let’s see if I can kick your ass once and for all!” he threw him one of the bags and pointed a door “Lockers are this way”.

Draco caught the bag and looked inside. Bottle green Quidditch robes were neatly folded inside with leather protections.

“Come on, get on with it!” Harry’s impatience was evident.

When Draco came back a few minutes later, wearing dated Slytherin Quidditch robes, he saw a Firebolt waiting for him on the wall on his right but no sign of Harry. Then a shadow ran on the ground, he rose his gaze and saw a red and gold flash speeding above his head.

Harry was already up in the air, looping and feinting as if gravity didn’t even bother him, whooping like a mad man.

“Well, come on already!” shouted the dark-haired man excitedly, he then addressed him an exuberant smile.

With a smirk, Draco mounted his broom and sped towards him in a smooth and elegant motion. The feeling of speed was amazing.

Harry was still smiling and held a familiar winged golden ball.

“Ready to get your ass kicked, Malfoy?” said Harry wickedly. A touch of their old rivalry reignited with the use of his last name.

“You wish, Potter!” answered Draco with a vicious smirk.

They exchanged a thrilled look then Harry let go of the snitch. They both shot at its pursuit, swirling around each other in a daring aerial ballet. Draco felt elation bubbling in his chest, his blood boiling with the pleasure of flying.

He could see his own exultation on Harry’s face and knew that the same savage thrill was coursing through his veins like lava, the same liquid fire licking up his spine.

A wild smile stretched his lips as the wind prickled on his skin, roared in his ears and whistled through his robes. He let the world turn in an indistinct blur around him and completely threw himself in the game. Each move, each figure was answered in kind by the skilled player at his side. Draco had never truly appreciated how great a flyer Harry truly was. It had been a source of burning jealousy, dismissal and loathing at school but now that the anger and hate was gone, Draco marvelled at the way the young man seemed to elude the physical constraints and fuse with his broom to engage in breath-taking motions/manoeuvres.

Draco never had a more stimulating opponent and he let his own fears and reserve on the ground, executing reckless figures and bold tactics in order to compete with the Gryffindor. Nothing existed anymore beside the flying confrontation. He poured all his frustrations, all his anger and rage, all his fears in this adrenalin blaze.

The hours fled in a chaos of colourful blurs, bubbling exhilaration and seething intensity. When their fingers went numb with cold and every muscle of their body was reduced to a sore, shivering mess, they finally stopped. They both got on the ground, stumbling and giggling like school boys, and collapsed on the grass, out of breath and covered in sweat.

Draco shot a quick glance at the Auror. He was quite rocking the Quidditch outfit. The Auror training had definitely did good: Harry was broader and more muscular but in a discreet and supple way. Something stirred in Draco but he refused to think about it and shook himself internally.

“Accio, bag!” said Harry happily with a flick of his wand. He opened the duffle bag and took out the tin box that contained two huge sandwiches. He gave one to Draco whose belly growled at the sight. The pale blond suddenly realized he was ravenous.

They both ruthlessly devoured their sandwiches in a few bites then remained contentedly silent for a while, savouring their full bellies and the nice weather in the pitch emblazoned with the Puddlemere team’s colours and emblem: navy-blue and crossed golden bulrushes.

“Thanks” finally said Draco without looking at Harry. His eyes were shut and his face tilted toward the sun, basking in the warm light.

“You’re very welcome. I must say I didn’t realize how much I had missed Quidditch up until then.”

“Don’t tell me it was your first time since school?” said Draco in disbelief.

“It was” confirmed Harry “though now I feel stupid I didn’t get back on a broom earlier”

“Same here. And I never tried a Firebolt before, they’re amazing.”

“You’re actually a pretty decent flyer.”

“Well, I wish I could be half the flyer you are, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure you’re not part bird after what I saw up there!” he said admiringly. Draco had been able to claim victory on him a few times but he wasn’t entirely sure Harry hadn’t let him win. “It would explain the brains, I suppose” Draco added teasingly.

“I knew it was too good to be true…” mumbled the Auror.

“Where did you get your hands on Slytherin Quidditch robes anyway?”

“Sirius’s brother, Regulus. He was playing Seeker for Slytherin. You’re taller than he was but I transfigured the robes. I wasn’t sure about my transfiguration work but you scrub up nice in it” He answered simply and Draco’s stomach churned. The dark-haired wizard got up and winced like an old man. “I’m pretty sure I’m 80 right now” he whined.

Draco got up too and his muscles screamed their disapproval, he groaned too.

“Let me” he said and raised his wand upon Harry.

The white-blond young man chanted a long spell that enveloped the Gryffindor in a soft yellow light and soothed his stiff muscles almost instantly. It was as if he had stepped in a warm and smooth liquid. Harry moaned wantonly with relief.

“That was just amazing” he sighed contentedly.

Draco twitched and launched the spell on himself. Distracted, he didn’t catch what Harry said next.

“Sorry, what?”

“You should seriously consider becoming a healer, Draco. You’re really good at this kind of stuff.”

Draco didn’t want to dampen the mood, he thus abstained from pointing out he could barely get out of Grimmault Place without fearing a slow and painful death, so considering a career wasn’t currently in order. Not to mention the reaction he would get if he actually tried to become a Healer in Britain. Nobody would be thrilled to see him anytime soon.

He just shrugged and went back to the lockers to take a deliciously hot shower. Despite his earlier thoughts, he caught himself smiling at the idea of working as a Healer. After all the damage he had done, it would only be fair to try and fix what he could to atone for his past lack of judgement. But more than that, he had always been fascinated with regenerative magic, ever since he was a boy. He remembered devouring the books dealing with Healing in the huge library of the manor, curled up in the enormous leather armchairs. But this was before his life went haywire. He sighed deeply.

* * *

He got back to the grass and admired the fading sun that was casting a bronze light on everything. Harry was waiting for him, his hair still dripping wet.

“You do realize you’re a wizard, right? You could dry your hair like a civilized person, you know” teased Draco.

“You know what, I actually forget sometimes. You’d think by the time I would be used to it but-” he shook his head with a serene smile, looking around him “sometimes it just hits me.”

Draco had no answer for his disarming openness.

Harry hold the pencil and Draco grabbed it, momentarily brushing their fingers. For a fraction of second, their eyes met as well, then they started spinning.

* * *

When they got back in the kitchen, Luna was curled up in a seat near the fireplace, her knees pulled up against her chest. She was cuddling with the red and gold snake and they both gazed at them with a look so eerily similar it made Draco uncomfortable.

“There you are!” she exclaimed happily. “I tried to ask Algernon where you two went but I think I need to work on my Parseltongue.”

Harry laughed and embraced her familiarly. He scratched the snake’s chin affectionately and the scaled beast closed its eyes lazily.

“ _Algernon_?” asked Draco “Is that what you called it?”

“ _Him_ ” corrected sternly Luna.

“Luna’s the one who gave _him_ to me, and she came up with the name.” 

“It’s from a muggle book Harry never bothered to read” she said, shooting the Gryffindor an unimpressed look.

“Tea?” the latter asked, ignoring her comment on his lack of culture.

“Yes please, Harry” she answered pleasantly “I caught Harry in a deep conversation with a little adder at my housewarming party once. -She’s very friendly now by the way-”

“Is she now?” answered politely Harry. Draco could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

“Oh yes, she always brings me dead things, I think it’s her way to socialize” she said very matter-of-factly. “Anyway I saw him chatting her up and since I felt bad about letting him all alone in the house after moving back to mine-”

“Hey!” said Harry with an offended tone. “I was perfectly fine on my own before and I still am! I’m not a lost puppy you need to care for!”

“Of course you are Harry, dear” she said affectionately “you’re extraordinary brave and all but let’ be honest, with that thick skull of yours, you wouldn’t have lasted six months without Hermione all these years.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth several time, undecided on how to respond to that, then decided to ignore her and got back to his tea making with a childish sulk. Draco laughed frankly at his dismay. You had to love Luna.

“And without Molly’s force-feeding, you would have starved to death after the War” Luna added absently, unaware of the awkward silence that fell after her sentence.

“Which reminds me” she said suddenly and animatedly while turning to the white-blond “you look great Draco! I’m glad you put on some weight, you looked almost transparent last time I saw you...”

Draco smiled embarrassedly. “Thank you Luna” he said politely “you look great too”. She beamed at him and caught his hand in her tiny fist. “Happy Birthday! Harry wanted us to have a little dinner together to celebrate, that’s why I’m here!” she smiled again.

“Y-you did?” asked Draco in disbelief to Harry’s back that had went slightly rigid.

“Yeah, I thought it could be a good idea to relax a bit and have a nice dinner with… friends” he said hesitantly, his back still turned to him.

Wild emotions swarmed through Draco.

“I hope you don’t mind boys but I ran into Hermione at Flourish & Bott’s -shocker, I know-, anyway, I told her I was going to see you guys tonight and I offered her to join us with Ronald. She seemed really happy so I reckon they will drop by in a few.” She got back to petting Algernon, completely unfazed by the thick silence.

Harry turned around and searched Draco’s eyes.

“Um, Luna could you excuse us for a moment?” she didn’t answer or look up, too occupied by the reptile. Harry took the blond’s wrist and guided him to the living room.

“Do you want me to firecall them and tell them not to come? I don’t want to impose them-”

“Harry, stop, you’re at _your_ place, you don’t have to keep your friends away on my account…”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, it was supposed to be a quiet thing… and it’s your birthday…”

“Harry, relax, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I’ll manage” he paused “I’m more surprised they want anything to do with me, if I’m honest. But I think a little chat with them was long overdue anyway.”

“You do?” Harry frowned.

“Yes, I told you I’m trying to make things right. I reckon It’s important I talk to them too.” said Draco decidedly.

“Oh right. I don’t think you’ll have to, though. I told them you… had changed. I explained everything and… It took a bit of time but they understood. I’m not sure there will be anything left to forgive because… I think they already did.”

“What? Really?”

“Yes, Draco.” he smiled encouragingly “Holding grudges benefits no one, Ron and Hermione see that. And they reckoned that if you didn’t kill me after a week living here with me, you definitely have changed!” Harry laughed goofily.

Draco didn’t reply, his throat constricted by raw emotion. With a sympathetic pressure on his shoulder, Harry let him sort his thoughts and got back to the kitchen. Draco listened to the sound of his deep reassuring voice purring pleasantly with Luna’s in the other room, trying to reconcile himself with the idea he now seemed to have… friends.

* * *

“You did what???” exclaimed Draco, bewilderment painting his pure features.

“We may have sneaked in the Slytherin common room…” answered Hermione, a rosy blush creeping on her cheeks though Harry was persuaded it had more to do with the white wine than the actual embarrassment. “Well Ron and Harry did anyway, I had… a last minute technical difficulty...” Harry smiled at the memory.

They were sitting outside in the back garden, enjoying the warm June weather around an old wooden table. They had devoured the meal Harry made and were now getting slowly but steadily sloshed.

After an embarrassing start, the little party dissolved in a wine-enhanced good-natured evening. Draco, at first stiff and formal had morphed into a pleasant guest with his wicked sense of humour and posh indignation. Ron and Hermione had been visibly unsettled to meet this new version of their school enemy but with Luna’s quirky presence and Harry’s cautious mediation, they all seemed to finally find their bearings.

“How did you get in? And what did you do?”

Ron burst out laughing so the responsibility to tell the story befell on Harry.

“It was in second year… We brewed Polyjuice potion and… turned into Crabbe and Goyle after the Halloween Feast.”

“You… you what? You brewed a Polyjuice potion? At twelve???” Draco couldn’t believe it. “And… why did you Polyjuiced as Crabbe and Goyle, of all people??”

“Well we wanted to talk to you without raising your suspicions...”

“Get out, you didn’t. I would’ve… wait… Halloween feast, second year? Merlin, I remember! You gits! That’s why those idiots turned out in a closet half-naked afterwards?”

Harry laughed wholeheartedly and nodded his assent.

“And what did you two slimy twats wanted to do with me in the first place?”

“Well, Harry here was convinced you were the actual heir of Slytherin and he was trying to get a confession” slurred Ron, cackling.

“Really?”

“Yeah, well I had to try it” said Harry sheepishly, he took a sip of his wine.

“Good Grief…” Draco shook his head and laughed in disbelief. A fricking Polyjuice potion at twelve. The nerve and stubbornness of the guy apparently had no limits whatsoever.

Luna laughed too and Ron sighed dramatically. “And so began the long list of Harry’s-obsessed-with-Draco-sodding-Malfoy moments.”

Luna howled with laughter, holding her sides and rocking uncontrollably, tears soon streaming on her cheeks.

“Here we go again” muttered Harry in a low voice, rolling his eyes. He got up and disappeared in the kitchen, listening to the ramblings of his friends through the opened window.

“I mean, let’s face it he _was_ obsessed…”

“Anyway” said Hermione, shooting a disapproving look to Ron.

“I’m sure you did plenty of naughty things at Hogwarts yourself, eh? So let’s hear some of it” he said to Draco with a conspiring face.

“Well, nothing this big, that’s for sure! We had our fair share of orgy-like stuff going on in Slytherin, granted, but compared to you…”

“Of course you did, you dirty little rascals” said Ron admiringly.

“How many rules did you break at school anyway, for Merlin’s sake???” Said Draco to steer clear of those treacherous waters.

“All of them I think, and probably several times each” answered Hermione earnestly.

“And that’s with Hermione’s good influence, imagine without it, we would have been expelled in first year” said Ron.

“Geez” whistled Draco. “So you were the brains of the operation then?” he eyed Hermione with praise.

“Not exactly… Harry was always the instigator he has some kind of instinct… It’s sometimes uncanny how he can be exactly right… I would only supply the how now and again or try to clean their mess” she said with an affectionate gaze at Ron who smiled lovingly and took her hand. They shared a look so deep and intimate that Draco felt suddenly left out and dreadfully alone.

Then all lights went out and Draco started, terror filling him instantly. He gripped his wand as his chest constricted in a tight and icy ball. But then Luna started singing and Draco saw the flickering light of dozens of candles casting quivering shadows on a huge cake floating above Harry’s arms. Ron and Hermione were singing too now and Draco realized it was a birthday song.

When the song was over and the cake on the table, Draco blew the candles under the crowd’s loud demands and everyone erupted in loud claps and cheers. Harry clapped on Draco’s back and his strong hand lingered a few seconds more before going away.

Hermione and Luna exchanged a sharp knowing look.

After a huge serving of a divine carrot cake, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Draco were all sated and quite merry considering the unknown number of bottles of wine that had been sacrificed throughout the night. Luna had fallen asleep on a deckchair and Harry conjured a blanket over her thin shoulders. The remaining four were still chatting cheerfully about this and that, enjoying the moment. Harry, Al wrapped around his shoulders like a huge scaly scarf, watched Draco on the sly. The pale blond was talking animatedly with his friends, his hands moving and his eyes sparkling with pleasure and laughter. He had rarely seen him so unguarded. The Slytherin must have sensed Harry’s stare because his gaze shot up to meet his and the unidentified gleam Harry read in the silvery pools made him shiver. He quickly got back to the conversation and didn’t notice the grey eyes trained on him.

Hermione hid a little smile in her glass.

* * *

“God, I fucking love magic” exclaimed Harry when all the mess from their dinner ascended from the table with a flick of his wand. The china obediently piled up near the sink -to be tended the day after-, the blanket neatly folded itself and flew to the dining room, the remaining food packed in mid-air and landed in the cooling-cabinet. In less than a minute, everything was sorted.

Draco chuckled at Harry’s artlessness.

“Well, all the rest can wait, I’m spent” the Auror said and yawned.

“Tell me about it, I’m not sure I properly see colours right now” answered Draco.

“That’s the wine! Those bloody French...” Joked Harry.

They climbed the stairs haphazardly and soon realized they were definitely drunk.

“ _Maudits français, comme tu dis!_ ” said Draco with a flawless accent.

“Of course you speak French… Blasted blue-blooded Slytherin...” he mumbled as Draco laughed.

They reached the landing giving access to the bathroom and Draco’s room and stood there awkwardly.

“Well… Goodnight then” said Harry but he didn’t move.

“I had the greatest day, I can’t believe it actually happened” The blond chuckled with disbelief.

“At your service, roommie” slurred Harry and he laughed uncontrollably at his joke.

“Anyway, I… thank you, that was probably the best birthday I ever had…” he trailed off, distracted by the proximity of the dark-haired man.

“You’re welcome” whispered Harry, who was indeed standing very close, teetering a little.

The moment seemed frozen in time and Draco couldn’t detach his stare from the Auror’s face, his mesmerizing almond-shaped green eyes with dark, long eyelashes, straight nose and fleshy lips. So inviting… So close… His brains screamed to fuck off but he couldn’t quite grasp why anymore, his mind clouded by the wine and the intoxicating presence of the Auror.

Draco wasn’t sure what happened then but next thing he knew, he was pinned on his door and Harry’s hard body was pressed up against his, devouring his mouth in a lustful and fiery kiss, making his head spin. His hands went through the white hair frantically, angling his head to search his mouth deeper and deeper. Harry tasted like wine and cinnamon and his hot tongue traced maddening patterns against the blond’s. Draco’s pace was through the roof and blood rushed in his ears. It was so good he could have sworn his feet weren’t touching the ground anymore.

Then it stopped as suddenly as it had started. Draco opened his eyes to find a horrified look on Harry’s face, mere inches from his.

“Oh God, Draco I’m so sorry! I’m… Merlin, what is wrong with me?” he said in a rush. He closed his eyes tightly and pinched the base of his nose with a guilty look.

“Harry…” started Draco but the dark-haired man cut him off.

“I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again” with a sharp intake of breath he added “Goodnight, Draco”. Then Harry was gone, leaving a confused and unbelievably turned on Draco, touching his swollen lips with shaking fingers.

* * *

The following morning, Draco woke up with a foul taste in his mouth and the sensation someone was drilling through his head with a blunt skewer.

“Merlin’s haemorroidic bollocks…” he groaned and rolled out of bed. Draco realized he was still wearing the same clothes than yesterday and wrinkled his nose in disgust. How undignified.

When the room stopped spinning around him, he made tentative steps towards the bathroom and let his clothes fall on the floor then stepped under the water, fighting his nausea.

After a rapid inspection of the medicine cabinet –hopeless-, Draco resigned himself to brew his own Hangover Potion. After all, it was rather simple and the pale blond could’ve done it in his sleep.

Showered and dressed, the taste of peppermint replacing the staleness on his tongue, Draco climbed down the stairs, took a knife in the kitchen and headed out into the overgrown backyard.

The sun was up and a warm breeze was caressing his clammy skin in a soothing embrace. Draco inhaled the smells of earth, wet grass and rotting wood with pleasure, forgetting his headache and nausea for a blissful moment.

His platinum hair shining under the morning sun, the tall blond headed toward the inextricable tangle of rough weeds and crouched on the ground in his smart trousers, rolling his sleeves above the elbows and leaning in the shady mess with his blade.

During his previous wanderings, the Slytherin thought he had seen some milk thistle and plantain lost inside the mess of overgrown plants. If he found some, he would be able to brew a passable ersatz of Hangover potion quite easily.

He rifled through the vines with a deep frown of concentration, ignoring the bramble grazing his skin, burying himself in the familiar task. Then, with a cry of triumph he saw the purple flower with spiky leaves. Careful, Draco cut the base of the stem and collected his prize along with several tufts of plantain.

Pleased with himself, he gathered his harvest and brought it inside. Humming obliviously, Draco set a big pan on the stove and rummaged through the cabinet to find herbs and cloves. Then, he settled on the workbench and started on his crushing, slicing and cutting.

A few minutes later, the potion was bubbling happily and a light lilac steam was spiralling above the liquid. He put out the fire and tested the consistency, it would do.

The tall blond winced when the bitter liquid coated his tongue but felt instantly better, his mind clearer and his nausea gone. Draco was still feeling several-centuries old and his head was way too painful but at least he wouldn’t pass out in a pool of his own retch.

“Wass’dat smell” said Harry’s voice, a raspy sound that sent shivers in Draco’s spine.

The Slytherin froze, their late night kiss suddenly very vivid in his memory. Draco warily turned around and took in the glassy eyes, spiky black hair and grey skin of the Gryffindor. He looked unfazed, obviously too hangover to worry about his drunken groping.

“You look like a walking corpse” observed the pale blond.

“I _feel_ like a walking corpse” whined Harry, rubbing his eyes and falling on a chair dispiritedly.

Draco put a cup of his lilac mixture on the table beside his elbow and Harry eyed it dubiously.

“You didn't have any Hangover potion so I tried to make something that would…”

Harry gulped the drink in one go without letting him finish his sentence.

…help.”

“I’m pretty sure Dementor’s cum tastes better than this” he said with a strained voice. “But it does help”

“I’ll take your word for it. And thanks for that disgusting picture that I will never be able to forget”

“You’re welcome” Harry scoffed with a wolfish grin.

In the following days, they resumed their easy camaraderie and playful acerbic arguments as if nothing had changed. Draco didn’t mention the kiss and Harry didn’t either. But the pale blond clung to that peculiar Birthday gift that he would be hard put to forget, sometimes waking up in his bed with the ghost of scorching lips on his skin, breathless and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation for “Maudits français, comme tu dis!” : "Those bloody french indeed!"


	15. Sorry

A few days later, the young men were having breakfast in the backyard and, playfully arguing about the worst teacher they had ever met at Hogwarts. Harry was leaning towards Quirrell and Draco was adamant it was Lockhart.

“The guy had sodding Voldemort at the back of his head” exclaimed Harry forcefully, stretching his arms away from his torso in a disconcerted gesture.

“But at least he was actually good at teaching! After all he had first-hand knowledge about the Dark Arts, you have to give him that…” answered Draco with an amused smirk, his arms crossed. Harry knew he was winding him up on purpose but he couldn’t resist.

Suddenly, the wards shimmered. Someone was at the door. Harry rose to his feet, still shaking his head in disbelief with Draco’s last sentence, a wide smile etched on his face.

When he opened the door though, all traces of mirth left his face. A House elf was looking at him in wild terror, his big blue eyes and huge ears protruding from his stricken face. He was also wounded, purple bruises marring his waxy flesh.

“I is having a very important message for Mr Malfoy Sir!”

* * *

The elf had insisted only Draco was to be delivered his urgent message and refused to say any other word in Harry’s presence. But the Auror didn’t let go that easy. He quickly performed all the tests he could think of to ensure the elf hadn’t received the instruction to bring Draco back at the Manor and that he meant him no harm before letting him alone with the tall blond. A few minutes later, Draco got out of the study, alone, ashen-faced.

“It’s my mother” he said feebly, despair and fear filling the deep, grey eyes. “She escaped but He’s after her”

* * *

“It’s too dangerous!” exclaimed Harry forcefully “I cannot let you do this!”

“Let me do this? You’re certainly not one to tell me what to do or not, Potter!” hissed Draco and Harry flinched at the use of his surname and the spiteful tone.

“Draco, it’s not what I meant, you’re so-” but Harry couldn’t find what Draco was and he let out a frustrated grunt. “You stay here, I’ll go”

“It’s my mother, I have to go!”

“No! What if it’s a trap? You’re gonna get yourself killed and that’s it!”

“I don’t care, don’t you understand? It’s my mother and she’s in danger because of me! I can’t let her like that! But you can’t understand that, can you?” the cruel tone sliced through Harry like a hot blade and hurt registered for a second on his face. But a cold expression quickly replaced it, his stare was iron steel, dangerous. For a fraction of second, Draco thought he was going to punch him.

Harry turned on his heels and disappeared from the room, leaving Draco panting, anger still making his blood chant through his veins but with a sinking feeling burning his stomach like acid.

* * *

Harry climbed up the stairs, fury turning his sight red for a moment. He paused in front of Sirius’s room and punched the wall forcefully once, then twice, and didn’t stop, lashing out at the unforgiving hard surface, puncturing the dark and faded wallpaper and the wooden panel behind it. When he stopped, the wall was a crater of shattered wood and plaster smeared with blood. He watched it for a few seconds without seeing it then entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Harry crashed at the foot of the four-poster bed, shaking with anger, his magic flaring uncontrollably around and inside him. The Auror tried to breath in and out slowly to calm himself but failed miserably. Like he had countless times before. _I have to calm down. I have to_ -

Then he heard a discreet knock on the door. He didn’t answer, white-hot anger rising again in his chest.

 _Knock-knock_.

“Fuck off” said Harry, an icy-cold fury colouring his tone.

“Look, Harry, I’m-” said Draco, his voice muffled by the door.

“I said, fuck off!!!” shouted Harry roughly. When no answer came, he sighed and let his head fall on his palms. He fisted his hands in his hair, pulling so hard tears filled his eyes with the pain. His breathing was still a mess and he could feel his magical core all over the place, like it was about to explode. The pain pulsating in his hands was like a distant noise buzzing near his conscience.

_I need to calm down._

“You hurt your hands. You do realize you have anger management issues, don’t you?” Draco coldly pointed out and Harry’s stare snapped to him. He was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed and something undecipherable swirling in his flint-grey irises.

Harry shot up and his fists clenched instinctively.

“I told you to sod off” he growled.

“I don’t give a fuck what you told me”

“Don’t provoke me” Harry said in a warning tone.

“I’m not afraid of you” Draco shot back with a confidence he wasn’t feeling.

Draco didn’t know what strange compulsion made him push the Gryffindor. He had felt his magic flaring all around the house like a furious hurricane and couldn’t help his awe before the raw strength and power that rolled off the Auror in fiery waves. Even Voldemort’s aura hadn’t felt this violent, this intense. The Dark Lord signature had been painfully powerful, potent and inescapable but … cold, dead somehow. This was something else. It was like his flesh was being stripped off his bone by the sheer intensity of the magic barely kept under control. The aura was magnetizing, irresistible, the raging storm of magic was dangerously entrancing.

And Draco went to him, riling him up. It was easy, it has always been.

The Slytherin watched Harry from the doorframe, all repressed rage and shaking furor. He looked dangerous and exhausted, both achingly powerful and frail. It was only a matter of time now.

“What do you want?” the Auror said through clenched teeth, his voice a rough low growl.

Draco took a moment to answer, distracted.

“We need to talk” he finally said.

“I don’t want to talk to you”

“I’m not asking for your permission, Ô Chosen One” said Draco spitefully, his temper rising uncontrollably. He felt like he _wanted_ to wind him up, like he _needed_ to make him lose control but the hell if he knew why. It was like school all over again.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” Harry growled again. His magic crackled ominously around them and Draco’s hairs raised on his skin.

“Stop giving me orders, I’m not one of your brainless lovesick groupies, Golden Boy” he stepped in the room defiantly, provocation flashing in the silver irises.

Harry was so fast Draco didn’t even see him move. His punch crashed on his face in an explosion of hot pain, splitting his lip and throwing him backwards. His back collided roughly with the wall and knocked the air out of his lungs. A hot liquid trickled down his chin. Draco wiped it and looked at the crimson smear on his white sleeve.

In a second, Harry was on him and about to hit him again but this time, Draco was faster. His fist painfully smashed Harry’s nose with a sickening crack. Blood started flowing down but Harry didn’t seem to notice. The Gryffindor clutched Draco’s front and crashed him oh the wall, his face so close his hot breath was brushing Draco’s face. His eyes were a blazing whirl of raw emotion. The blond fisted Harry’s hair and crashed their mouth together in a punishing kiss, clinking their teeth together and biting Harry’s lips. The Auror’s taste was making his head spin, mixed with the coppery taste of blood.

“I hate you” said Draco with a rough voice “God, I hate you so much” he repeated, fisting the black hair harder and angling Harry’s head forcefully to deepen the brutal kiss. But Harry resisted, his neck muscles flexing with the effort of going against Draco’s forearms.

“Fuck you, shut the fuck up, or I swear I’ll-” but his grovel rough voice trailed off and claimed Draco’s mouth with a feral kiss, invading his mouth, battling for dominance with a gruelling fierceness. Draco moaned and Harry swallowed the sound that set him on fire.

Without knowing what he was doing, he started grinding his hips roughly against the blond’s, panting uncontrollably, desperately looking for something to release the tension that was driving him insane. He left Draco’s mouth, and attacked his neck, gritting his teeth against the soft skin and sucking the flesh hard, filled with a savage pleasure when he felt his pulse jump under his touch.

Draco bit his shoulder hard enough to draw blood and Harry groaned, his wounded right hand clutching Draco’s hip in a bruising grip.

His desire was building inside him at an alarming rate, it was as if lava was licking up his spine, getting him closer and closer to the edge. He heard without hearing the blond’s strangled cries and groans, making his blood boil. His hips responded and bucked against him vehemently. Harry thrust harder and faster, setting a frenzied pace, fisting Draco’s hair and forcing his mouth on his roughly. As their climax grew closer, their breathing was erratic, hating the fabric between their skins, hating each other, scratching, biting, choking as if their lives depended on it. Then Draco’s whole body suddenly tensed and he came with a shameless moan, a strong quiver running through his muscles. At the sight of total abandon on the blond’s face, a white-hot surge of pleasure crashed on Harry. He came with a low grunt, half-buried in his throat. His whole body shuddered as he rode the last waves of his orgasm, letting his head fall on Draco’s hot and sweaty shoulder. His head was spinning dangerously and his whole body was shaking and aching.

“I’m sorry” murmured Draco

“What?”

The spell hit him and his consciousness wavered.

“No!” The sound he meant to shout only came out as a whimper. Completely out of it, he held on to the body against his as he felt like he was falling backwards. He lost consciousness before the end of the fall.

* * *

When he woke up, Harry winced as a chorus of pain and chaotic thoughts collided in his skull. His eyes fluttered open and he recognized Sirius’ room around him. He was laying on the covers of the bed, still fully clothed, his wand nowhere to be seen.

 _What happened..?_ Harry asked himself confusedly. He tried to get up and grimaced as waves of pain came crashing on his wretched body. He was in a poor state, covered in blood and feeling old. He looked for his wand, trying to sort out his thoughts. Something was nagging at him. He was missing something. Something important.

He finally found his wand on the floor, near the door. It must have rolled off the bed. Then he saw the hole in the wall outside the bedroom and everything came back at once.

 _Draco!_ His mind shouted.

He ran down the stairs, calling the blond’s name frantically. His bedroom was empty and seemed untouched. He wasn’t in the bathroom or the living-room either. When Harry rushed in the kitchen his heart jumped at the sight of a fragment of paper on the table.

Only one word had been hastily scratched on it, in the elegant and neat handwriting: ‘ _Sorry_ ’.

Harry clutched the paper in his hand.


	16. Bite Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There's a conversation in French in the chapter, you'll find the translation in the notes at the end of the chapter :) enjoy ;)

“ _You’ve reached Draco Malfoy’s cellpho… Are you sure about this?_ ” said the strained and anxious recorded voice of Draco. There was the sound of a deep, fortifying sigh then:

“ _All right, then. If you don’t wish my complete and utter destruction feel free to leave a message on this blasted thing and if I figure out how to-_ ”

“ _Draco stop swearing, that’s not nice and you’re just nervous_ ” said Luna’s ethereal and absent voice.

“ _Lovegood, you’re on thin ice_ ” falsely threatened Draco.

 _Luna!_ Thought Harry suddenly. He hung up and dialled Luna’s number as fast as his clumsy fingers allowed him to, heart beating fast.

“Come on Luna” he muttered through his clenched teeth “Pick-up, pick-up, pick-”

“Hello, Harry!” said Luna happily. She sounded delighted. “What’s up?”

“Luna, I’m sorry but this is very important. Did Draco contact you in the last 24 hours?”

“No, Harry, he didn’t. What happened? Is something wrong?”

“Yes, um no, I don’t know. He’s gone and…” Harry shook himself “I’m sorry, I’ve been all over the place. I think he went to meet his mother somewhere… She escaped and Lucius is after her. Do you have any idea where he or she might be?” he asked, a stupid surge of hope flaring inside him.

“No, Harry I’m sorry I have no idea…” she paused “How did he run away, I thought you had put special wards on Grimmault?”

“I did but he… He tricked me. He shut me down and then he bailed.”

Bitterness filled him once more.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He probably just panicked.”

“Yeah, something like that” Harry didn’t feel like going over the subject and he didn’t have time anyway “Look, I need to fill Ron and Hermione in then go to the DMLE, so if you hear from him, let me know immediately, ok?”

“I will Harry, don’t worry we’ll find him” she said resolutely and Harry wished he could believe her unconditionally.

“Thanks, Luna.”

He hung up and pressed his fists on his eyes, panic rising inside of him like an uncontrollable flood threatening to drown him.

“Stop this. Now.” He said out loud firmly. “Get your shit together, you’re a bloody Auror for Fuck’s sake”

“Ron and Hermione, then Catesby” he repeated to himself and went for the Floo powder.

* * *

When Draco entered the shabby pub, he scanned the room carefully, looking for anything suspicious, eyes narrowed. His heart missed a bit when icy-blue eyes locked with his. She was standing there, a few metres away from him, inconspicuously dressed in plain and old black robes, a dark shawl covering her head.

“Mother” whispered Draco urgently hugging her tight and inhaling her familiar scent for a few seconds. Draco then held her at arms length, examining her “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Draco.” she smiled at him “I know this isn’t the time but I’m relieved to see you well”

“Don’t worry about me, mother. What happened?”

She looked around warily and fastened her shawl over her head like a hood, concealing her face from the other patrons of the bar.

“Let’s sit, we don’t have much time.”

They took a seat at a corner table, Draco sitting opposite his mother and facing the door to avoid any unpleasant surprise.

“I’m sorry to put you in danger but I needed to see you. Your father has gone crazy”

“Did he…? When I left… Mother, I’m so sorry… I didn’t plan on disappearing like that, I swear…”

“Never mind this” she smiled warmly and cupped his jaw with cold fingers and a gaze so full of love it put a lump in his throat “I was relieved you did. The firsts days I just feared your father would find you and punish you but… you did well my son” she looked at him proudly “And don’t worry, I can handle your father’s fits” she lied easily.

“What happened?” he asked her, his lips a thin line of worry.

“He wants to kill Harry Potter and he has contacts in the Ministry, they’re going to send him in a trap, we don’t have long”

A rush of cold dread crept inside Draco’s chest.

“Tell me” he pressed her urgently.

In a fraction of second, several things happened. He felt a prickly feeling on his neck telling him something was off and saw his mother pure features decompose in fear. As he started to whip around, a snarky voice just above Draco’s shoulder said:

“Tsk, tsk, how very naughty”

Then everything went black.

* * *

When Draco woke up, he was lying on a cold, hard surface, tied up. His coat had been removed and he shivered as the coldness of the stone seeped inside his numb limbs through the thin fabric of his shirt. His head hurt and he felt a trickle of blood dripping from his left brow. The Slytherin smelled the mushy smell of mould and salpeter, dust and old wood. He could feel magical auras around him. He wasn’t alone.

Peering through his eyelashes, Draco tried not to reveal he was conscious yet, hoping this could turn at his advantage somehow. He could see his cloak at his feet, laid in a heap of dark fabric. The light was dim but the small room looked like a cellar of some kind.

Then he saw a cloaked body with golden strands of silky hair fanning out around the head and all strategy flew out of his head.

“Mother!” he exclaimed desperately.

“Ah, finally, young Draco deigns to grace us with his presence”

The tall blond craned his neck, trying and failing to see who was talking. He concentrated but couldn’t recognize the voice and the light but lingering accent. European, but from where? He could only see a huge dark form, moving around his field of vision, accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric.

“You won’t have to worry about her long. That little stunt didn’t do much to ingratiate herself with your father. His patience was already running thin but now, there’s no going back to being Mrs Malfoy I’m afraid.” The snobbish voice laughed “Shame, really. Such a beautiful, refined flower. Quite exquisite, if you ask me. And clever at that. Obviously not enough to know her right place but still, shame.”

Draco growled.

“Then again, she’s your mother, so I don’t expect you to agree. That and the fact you’d rather take it up the arse than be a man” added the man with clear disgust.

“Ah, poor old Lucius. Not very lucky on the family front, is he?

The cloaked tall frame crouched supply in front of Narcissa, revealing his craggy, pale face with protruding dark eyebrows, light blue eyes and long black hair. He looked around forty, rather tall and broad. His expensive but unostentatious clothes and the way he held himself indicated someone rich, well bred or at least pretending to be. His gloved fingers threaded through Narcissa’s blond locks thoughtfully “Such a waste” he sighed.

“Don’t you touch her, you bastard” snarled Draco, voice scratchy.

The man scoffed, visibly amused by Draco’s menacing tone.

“I think you’ll find you’re in no position to issue threats of any kind” he said calmly and studied him with that gaze of a peculiar shade of blue, almost as transparent as glass or ice.

Draco’s blood was boiling, anger burning his stomach but the man was right, he was powerless. No trace of his wand. At this moment he wished he knew how to perform wandless magic, like he never wished for something before.

“Your father specifically requested that I’d do this in front of you and believe me, I take no particular joy in this. Sadly, business is business” he said with those weird inflexions. Eastern Europe? Draco swallowed and thought of Tűz Által, the Hungarian crime organization lead by none other than Briccius Báthory.

“I’m no animal, I’ll let you have proper goodbyes” he rose to his feet in an elegant gesture and whispered an ‘Enervate’ to the sleeping form of Narcissa as Draco’s stomach churned. What the fuck did that mean?

Her eyes fluttered opened and fixated on Draco’s face, at once sharp and lucid. Draco’s relief crashed through him for a second, lessening the foreboding sense that had been filling him since he woke up.

“Draco” she murmured “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mother” he answered calmly, his cool façade at odds with the frantic panic he was feeling inside.

“Hello, Narcissa” said the man pleasantly, head nodding in a formal greeting.

“Sándor” answered Narcissa haughtily and Draco flinched. Sándor. Belladonna’s older brother. And Briccius’ elder son.

“I suspect you’re here to take us back to Lucius?” she added in an icy-cold voice.

“Not exactly” he answered cryptically while holding her gaze. But some form of understanding seemed to pass between them.

“I see. I thought you too proud to become my husband’s lackey” she stated nonchalantly.

Sándor chuckled and shook his head.

“And you thought right. I answer to no one but my father.”

She looked at her son then at the heir of the Báthory clan in a silent question. He shook his head in denegation and she relaxed. With a flex of his wrist, Narcissa’s hands untied.

“I’ll leave you a moment” he added simply and stepped away from them, probably in another room nearby.

“Mother, what..?”

But Narcissa cut him off and cupped his jaw like before, locking her blue irises with his intently.

“ _Draco, Écoute moi_ ” she said in French, obviously as an attempt to conceal their words from the other wizard.

“ _Mère_ ” he answered in the same language.

“ _Écoute moi!_ ” “ _Nous n'avons que peu de temps. Il faut que tu fuies ton père. Il ne te pardonnera pas cette fois ! Peu importe ce qu'il te dit, n'n crois pas un mot, tu m'entends ?_ ”

“ _Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire? ”_

“ _Il a trouvé une autre manière de se lier à Briccius. Tu sais ce que ça signifie._ "

It meant that Lucius had no reason to keep Draco alive.

“ _Draco, il va tenter de te duper pour que tu le mènes au jeune Potter. Fais ce qu'il te demande et sauve toi. Je sais que tu trouveras un moyen d'échapper à ton père, tu le dois._ "

“ _Non!_ ”

“ _Draco, fais ce que je te dis_ ” there was metal in her voice and gaze, Draco had never seen her like that.

“ _Et toi ?_ ”

“ _Ça importe peu maintenant, je…_ ”

“Sorry Narcissa, but it is time” said Sándor softly, appearing in the room silently.

Narcissa clenched her delicate jaw and caressed her son’s cheek with the pad of her thumb. He looked at her, his grey eyes widening when he understood.

“No!” he exclaimed but his mother ignored him.

“ _Je t'aime, mon fils, plus que tout au monde. Et je suis fière de toi. Je suis désolée de ne pas avoir pu te protéger de lui."_

She hugged the trembling blond and whispered in his ear “ _Sauve toi_ ”.

“Mother, no!”

Draco struggled against his binds frantically but they held on. Narcissa turned away and faced Sándor, her proud face and stature radiating with grim determination.

“Do what you must” she switched back to English and said unflinchingly, her voice unwavering.

Sándor nodded respectfully and raised his wand.

“NO!!!” shouted Draco desperately. “Please, don’t do that, please…”

“It’s alright Draco, you’re going to be okay” said Narcissa tenderly.

When Sándor slashed his wand, a violent golden light shone around her, then she collapsed gracefully and didn’t move.

“NOOOOO!!!!!!”

* * *

“Where’s Hermione?” asked Harry, not even slowing down when the tall redhead showed up at his side.

“She will join us in the atrium in a few, I think she’s gathering gear”

Harry’s Machiavellian’s smile did nothing to assuage Ron’s worry.

“Harry, are you 100% sure Draco’s in danger?”

“I’m sure.”

“How? Sorry, mate but what if Draco just got fed up and bailed to France or the Cayman islands?”

Harry stopped in his track, fuming.

“He would never abandon his mother when she’s in danger” said Harry forcefully. The dark-haired wizard turned his blazing green eyes on his best friend and said implacably:

“If you don’t trust me or don’t want to be part of this, then nothing stops you from going home and forgetting I ever said anything”

Ron bristled and gripped the arm of his best friend, determined blue eyes flashing anger and hurt.

“Mate, you need to calm down. I’m on your side okay? If you say the ferret’s in danger, I believe you and I’ll be by your side no matter what, like I’ve always been. I just had to ask, okay?”

“Right. I shouldn’t have doubted you, sorry mate” said Harry uncomfortably.

“Don’t mention it” mumbled Ron with a little smirk.

They rushed in the corridors of the Ministry, rising more than a few eyebrows and whispers on the way.

The two Aurors arrived in front of Eveleen’s desk a moment later and asked for a minute with Catesby, stressing the utmost urgency of the situation.

Eveleen disappeared in a second and when she came back, she was about to deliver what was probably a very well brewed excuse but Harry snapped before it even escaped her mouth.

“Fuck this” he said and marched on Catesby’s desk like a madman.

* * *

“Sir, we need to set up a tactical raid over Malfoy Manor immediately” declared Harry to a bewildered Belarius Catesby who had been sipping his coffee, Daily Prophet in hand and comfortably settled in at his desk.

“Beg your pardon, Auror Potter?”

“We have reasons to believe that a civilian is being held and his life threatened by Lucius Malfoy and his associates as we speak.”

“And why on earth would Lucius Malfoy do that?”

“We’re not sure yet but it involves retaliation”

“Who is that civilian?”

“Draco Malfoy, Sir” said Harry reluctantly.

“So, what you’re telling me is that Draco Malfoy is currently residing in his family home and his life threatened by his own father? Have you gone mad, Auror Potter?” smirked Catesby, obviously loving it.

Harry inhaled deeply, knowing that their chances of success depended on his ability to keep a cool head. Now wasn’t the time for one of his spectacular losses of temper.

“It’s a tad more complicated than that, Sir” said Ron cautiously

“Oh and how so, do tell, Auror Weasley, I can’t wait to hear it” sneered Catesby.

“Draco Malfoy… evaded his home a few months ago for fear for his life and well-being after repeated acts of torture and intimidation. He has been hiding for weeks from his father and disappeared this morning without a trace after meeting with his mother, Narcissa, who sent him a plea for help”.

“And you know that how, Auror Potter?”

“Anonymous tip and word of the street, corroborated by reliable informers” Harry lied defiantly.

Catesby crossed and uncrossed his legs, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

“Sir, his life is in danger as we speak, we must do something”

“Supposedly” said Catesby superiorly with a wide grin making his perfect teeth glint.

“Sir, I interviewed Draco Malfoy myself and saw the marks on his body”

“As part of which investigation, may I ask?”

Harry remained silent, trying desperately to remain calm and control the rising anger that made him breathe harder and harder.

“I can’t think of one reason why Lucius Malfoy –an esteemed member of the Wizarding community and the primary benefactor of countless charities for years- would engage in such nefarious activities. Those are very serious accusations -and rather grotesque ones I might add. If you haven’t any proof to support that theory of yours, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”

He grinned again with his large, self-satisifed grin and that was the exact moment Harry lost it. He knew. The bastard knew what Malfoy was up to. And it was obvious he was delighted to brush off the accusations without even pretending he didn’t care about any of it.

“How much?” he snarled between clenched teeth. Ron sighed behind him.

“Beg your pardon, Potter?”

“How much did you ask when Malfoy bought you off like the filthy crook you are?” he snarled. His magic soared around him, unpredictable and ominous.

“Mate…” tried Ron half-heartedly. Harry could tell how angry he was too.

“How dare you, Potter??? I’m your Supervising Officer and as such, you’ll show deference and respect like the meaningless and ridiculous obedient lackey you are” Catesby fulminated with a face so full of disdain that it took Harry everything he had not to punch him. His magic crackled around them, unstable and electric, filling the room with the smell of ozone.

Catesby paled and threatened him with his index, a heinous rictus plastered on his face.

“Potter, control yourself or I swear to God I’ll fire you, no matter how many times you lived! Do I make myself clear??”

“Bite me, I don’t answer to swines like you” said Harry fiercely and stormed out of the office, closely followed by a crimson Ron.

The screams of their superior followed them in the corridors where they found Southwell, wide-eyed and smiling in disbelief, having obviously listened to the whole conversation.

“I’LL HAVE YOUR HEAD POTTER, COUNT ON IT! AND YOU’RE BOTH SUSPENDED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE, YOU HEAR ME????”

“Well, boys, you have definitely outdone yourself this time” she grinned widely “Way to go, mates, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard!” she burst out laughing and walked away in the other direction.

Harry and Ron exchanged a puzzled look then shrugged and left.

* * *

Less than half an hour later, they were in the kitchen at Grimmault Place, desperately looking for a way to locate Draco. Luna had joined them and endeavoured to make what looked like the equivalent of the Mediterranean in tea, arguing that there was nothing like a cup of tea in a crisis.

“I’ve already tried all the locating spells I know but it didn’t work” said Harry, feeling defeated and increasingly worried.

“Same” said Hermione sheepishly.

“There must be a way to find him” growled Harry, slamming his fist on the table. He couldn’t bear to stay here and do nothing while Draco was probably being atrociously tortured. Or worse, but this, Harry refused to think about.

“He can’t be at the manor, that would be too easy, too predictable” muttered Harry for the fifth time, getting desperate. “Where could he be?”

“Did Malfoy mentioned another property they might have in Britain, anything?”

“No, at least I don’t think so…” he sighed “Gosh, they could be anywhere!” he said, frustrated.

“Merlin pants!” exclaimed Hermione suddenly.

“Please, tell me you’ve got something ‘Mione!” said Ron hopefully.

“Harry, did you find Draco’s phone?” she asked intently.

“Erm, no, I think he left with it, why?” Harry answered, perplexed.

“Well you can ward someone and his magical signature against locating spells but what if we could trace not him but his phone?”

“Hermione, you’re a genius!” shouted Harry and hugged her tightly.

“That’s all very well but how do we do that?” asked Ron, nonplussed. “I don’t suppose there’s a spell for that?”

“Much better” Hermione smiled wickedly.

“Sometimes I really wonder why you weren’t sorted in Ravenclaw” said Luna with a smile “then I remember the day you punched Draco and it all makes sense again.”

* * *

“I’ve got the coordinates!” said Hermione, triumphant, less than half an hour later.

With a simple firecall to pull a favour from a muggle-born engineer she was working with at the Department of Experimental Magic, they had the information they were looking for.

“It’s in the middle of nowhere, in the Scottish Highlands” she said minutes later, frowning.

“That doesn’t sound right” said Luna thoughtfully, sharing a long look with Hermione.

“Let’s not care about that for now, it’s the only lead we have right now!” rushed Harry.

“So, what’s the plan now?” said Ron, concentration painting his freckled features.

“Now, we fight” said Harry ferociously, his eyes burning with that dangerous glint his friends had seen several times before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) "Tűz Által" (the Hungarian gang led by Briccius) means "Through/By Fire" in Hungarian
> 
> 2) Translation of the conversation in French :
> 
> “Mother, what..?”
> 
> But Narcissa cut him off and cupped his jaw like before, locking her blue irises with his intently.
> 
> “Draco, listen to me” she said in French, obviously as an attempt to conceal their words from the other wizard.
> 
> “Mother” he answered in the same language.
> 
> “Listen!” “We don’t have much time. You need to get away from your father! He won’t forgive you this time, no matter what he tells you, don’t believe him, you hear me?”
> 
> “What are you talking about?”
> 
> “He found another way to link himself to Briccius. You know what that means”
> 
> It meant that Lucius had no reason to keep Draco alive.
> 
> “Draco, he will try to trick you into leading him to the Potter boy. Do as he says and save yourself. I trust you’ll find a way to evade your father, you have to.”
> 
> “No!”
> 
> “Draco, you will do as I say” there was metal in her voice and gaze, Draco had never seen her like that.
> 
> “What about you?”
> 
> “It doesn’t matter anymore, I…”
> 
> “Sorry Narcissa, but it is time” said Sándor softly, appearing in the room silently.
> 
> Narcissa clenched her delicate jaw and caressed her son’s cheek with the pad of her thumb. He looked at her, his grey eyes widening when he understood.
> 
> “No!” he exclaimed but his mother ignored him.
> 
> “I love you, my son, more than anything in the world. And I’m proud of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from him.”
> 
> She hugged the trembling blond and whispered in his ear “Save yourself”.
> 
> “Mother, no!”


	17. Lindisfarne Castle

A loud crack frightened a number of wild birds, which took off on the grey, ominous Scottish sky. The four wizards had apparated in an old and forgotten patch of woods. The air was saturated with humidity and the overpowering smell of damp earth reached their nostrils.

In front of them, they could see a dilapidated wooden cabin in a clearing overrun by weeds. The worm-eaten door was hanging on its hinges pathetically. There was an eerie feel about the wild stretch of land, as if everything was holding its breath.

Raising his wand, Harry wordlessly performed an impressive range of inquisitive and revealing spells, quickly imitated by Ron and Hermione.

“Nothing” the young woman frowned. “You?”

Ron and Harry shook their heads.

“Hominum revelio” whispered Luna “There’s someone in there”

“I’ll go first, cover me” murmured Harry and strode to the old building before anyone would attempt to stop him.

Hermione sighed and muttered under her breath but they all raised their wands and followed him.

The insides of the cabin were as miserable as it looked from the outside, all broken furniture and creaking floorboard. But it appeared empty.

“There’s a cellar” said the muffled voice of the raven-haired Auror.

“Harry wait!” said Hermione but he was already gone.

“May the odds be ever in our favour” chanted Luna lowly but no Hunger Games reference would help them here and she knew it as she climbed down the rotten flight of stairs after her friends.

“Hermione, come quick!” said Harry in an urgent tone. He was kneeling beside a vague, cloaked form, running a pulsing-blue diagnosis spell over it.

“Is it…?” she asked feebly.

“No, it’s Narcissa… I think she’s still alive…”

Hermione ran her own spells.

“She is, but barely”

The bushy brunette waved her wand in a complicated pattern, shooting little ball of bronze light around the prone form of Narcissa Malfoy.

“I put her in a stasis state but she doesn’t have long. We need to get her proper care and quick” the brunette witch said resolutely.

Harry nodded darkly.

“Go ahead, I’ll search the place and meet you at St Mungo’s” Harry said roughly, avoiding her stare.

With a last anxious look thrown his way, Hermione rose to her feet, levitated the unconscious witch and disapparated.

“I’ll stay with him” said Luna to Ron who was hovering near the stairs, undecided. He smiled tightly, relief showing on his face, and disappeared too. Luna turned back to follow Harry. He was moving swiftly and gracefully, searching the room methodically. The green eyes fell on a dark piece of fabric bundled in a corner. He snatched it and blanched, recognizing the clothe as Draco’s cloak, his unmistakable citrusy scent clinging to the fabric as if to taunt him. He searched the pockets in frenzy and clutched the flat and rectangular screened-surface until his knuckles went white, his jaw twitching with obvious tension.

Luna recognized Draco’s phone with a disappointed jolt in her stomach. She approached Harry and enclosed him in a tentative embrace, caressing his back soothingly. Luna could feel his tension, as if his body was about to snap.

“We’ll find him Harry, don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay” she said with confidence.

After a moment, Harry seemed to cave in; he hugged her back tightly enough to hurt, burying his face in the fragrant mane of blond hair desperately, never wanting to let go.

Luna flattened his hair back tenderly, tucking him deeper in the crook of her neck, she felt his hard breath, hot and humid against her skin. A surge of protectiveness rose inside her for this young man who had already seen too much and lost even more.

“We’ll find him” she said resolutely, her vibrant tone strong enough to imprint her will on the fabric of fate. Or so she hoped.

* * *

Neville was running frantically, scrambling down the corners of the white slippery corridors and avoiding nurses and patients as best as he could. Luna’s owl had been clear this was an emergency and he dreaded to imagine which one of his friends would be lying, mortally wounded, in a white-linen bed _again_.

 _Probably Harry_ , provided his weary brain. It _always_ was Harry.

Relief crashed over him like a tidal wave, nearly making him collapse in a chair when he saw Luna, Harry, Hermione and Ron in a perfectly healthy state if sombre looking.

“What happened?” he asked “Luna called me, said it was urgent, what…?” his words faltered when his blue eyes fell on the face of Narcissa Malfoy, looking paler than death.

“What the f…?” he squeaked.

“Neville, sit down” said Luna with a dreamy smile “Hermione will explain but we are quite in a hurry”. Neville fell on the chair and nodded obediently.

“So, here is the thing…” started Hermione.

* * *

With the help of several Healers, Narcissa’s curse was halted then reversed. She was still worryingly weak and would need intense care for the following weeks but she would live.

After a hectic debate and despite the risks for her recovery, said Healers agreed to wake her up for a few minutes, enough for her to tell them what she knew and hopefully locate Draco.

When the beautiful pale woman woke up, her first words were for her son.

“Draco?”

Hermione’s sorry expression met her blue eyes.

“We’re trying to find him Mrs Malfoy and we hoped you could tell us what you know.”

Narcissa shut her eyes close tightly, ridden by violent emotion. When the icy-blue orbs opened, they were steady and resolute.

She told them everything about Lucius’ plans, his links with Tűz Által, the Hungarian wizard-supremacist gang operated by Briccius Bathory. She told them how Draco was supposed to bring the Bathory and Malfoys together by blood and how his refusal had drove Lucius mad for revenge. She told them how he had planned Harry’s assassination with allies within the DMLE –no one was really surprised to hear Belarius Catesby’s name in this part of the conversation- and how he didn’t need Draco anymore to fulfill his plans.

“Mr Potter, I’m begging you now, please save Draco. You already saved my life and I know I cannot ask more but I’ll do anything you want” she begged him and the desperate plea in her blue eyes wrenched at Harry’s guts.

“Tell me how to get to him” said the young Auror, fire in his eyes.

* * *

Nurse Leahy had had it. When the patient had been brought in by those dashing Aurors and asked to stay besides her, she had said nothing, even if they were outside visiting hours and way too many.

Then when Healers had outrageously agreed to put the poor woman in danger and wake her up to be questioned she had said nothing either, after all Healers were supposed to know if the risk was worth-taking or not and it wasn’t any nurse’s business to question any of their decisions.

But when a whole squad of Auror stormed in, the sturdy, no-nonsensical, stern old thing -who was bloody-well used to have her way no matter what- decided that she had had it. She was about to shoo them away ferociously once and for all with her infamous and widely feared dressing-down when she met a hard green gaze that couldn’t possibly belong to someone so young. Shaken to her very core, she retreated confusedly, patting her lilac hair feverishly and muttering to herself with furious indignation. No, all things considered, it definitely wasn’t Nurse Leahy’s day.

“What are you doing here” asked Harry with a look of such pure challenge that the young wavy blond Auror took a step back. Shooting him an amused look, Southwell, her black spiky hair shining under the hospital lights, smiled wickedly and said:

“We want in.” she said firmly.

Harry’s startled expression and gaping mouth was entirely worth the risk of getting fired, she decided.

“I heard you with Catesby and you’re not the only one who’s tired of his shit in the Bureau. He’s clearly unwilling to tackle the Dark Wizards’ threat –suspiciously so- and that’s too much. There’ll be no more Dark Lord pulling the strings in the Ministry if we can help it. Two wars were enough as it is.”

A moment of silence followed her vehement speech, Harry was still gaping and struggling for words while Hermione was beaming like a light-house. A disbelieving tentative smile stretched Ron’s lips and Neville looked from his friends to their colleagues, utterly clueless.

“I like your hair” finally said Luna with a luminous smile.

“Thanks” Southwell winked at her mischievously.

“So if you’ll have us, we plan on helping anyway we can even if it means raiding Malfoy Manor or give the finger to Shacklebot when he asks what the hell is going on.” She paused and studied him. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s the least we can do not to let you handle things on your own this time.”

“Bloody well said!” suddenly exclaimed Neville excitedly “I like this one” he added aside, elbowing Luna, who smiled secretly.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Things were definitely looking up.

* * *

Draco screamed so hard he felt something rip in his throat. A bubbly-rosy mix of blood and saliva coated the corner of his mouth.

“I have to say, Briccius’ men are truly artists in their domain. I’ve always found it pleasing to watch an artisan at work” said Lucius pleasantly as if he was talking about pottery and not looking at his only son being sliced up while heavily bleeding on the Persian rug.

The room was huge and luxuriously furnished, not less than eight hearths adorned the long wood-panelled-and-stone walls covered in tapestries, immense paintings and gilded trinkets of all sizes and variety. Plump sofas and armchairs delicately carved out of precious wood were disseminated everywhere and covered in dark velvet with accompanying coffee tables, pedestal tables covered with complicated statutes, and other niceties.

Lucius was comfortably seated aon of the imposing armchairs, as perfectly poised as ever and looking perfectly gracious except from the insane look in his metal-grey eyes.

“And what a joy to see you finally get what was coming to you after all your misbehaving” he sighed contentedly when another visceral scream tore out of Draco’s chest which was nothing but a mess of open wounds, bruised flesh and burnt skin. Fresh, warm, blood was trickling over coagulated trails in a messy and sinister labyrinthine tangle.

“I’ve made the mistake to look over your deviant wayward little ways but I was convinced that with the right _incentive_ … you would learn to remember what was befitted to a Malfoy. I was obviously sorely mistaken. Oh well, I’ve always been an incurable idealist!”

He sniggered lightly, delighted with his witticism and the chained form of Draco pinned to the wall with twisted iron-wrought bars piercing his shoulders like a collected insect. The white-blond young man was barely breathing and shuddering all over.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let this damned woman near your education” Lucius said darkly in a spectacular change of mood, his face disfigured with a heinous grin.

“The House of Black has somewhat lost it’s standards, truly awful that.”

He paused thoughtfully.

“But let’s not get ourselves down, shall we? Now that the fault has been established, I’ll just have to cleanse the Malfoy name from all this… unpleasantness.”

He smiled a sickening sweet smile.

“Let’s hope my future offspring doesn’t suffer from similar shortcomings. I cannot wait to see what glorious progeny the Báthory blood will bring me. Yes, that’s right, now that your mother is dead, you’re bride will actually become mine”

A silent tear rolled on Draco’s cheek.

“Adorjan, isn’t he awfully quiet, suddenly?” asked Lucius pleasantly to the short, stocky wizard holding a glinting serrated knife. “We wouldn’t want him to get bored or lose consciousness and miss the show, now would we?”

“No, Mr Malfoy, you’re right” said Adorjan with a thick Eastern-European accent.

The glowing purple light reflected lazily on marmoreal skin and the white body arched when the spell hit him, grey-pupils stretching impossibly wide.

Then the blade went back to work and the screams resumed.

“Excellent” exulted Lucius with a sadistic smile.

* * *

“So we just barge in guns blazing?” asked a senior Auror sporting metallic grey hair in a strict haircut that reminded Harry of American action movies from when he was a kid.

“Virtually, yes but not exactly” answered Ron with a wicked grin “We have the element of surprise and Narcissa filled us in on every ward protecting the Castle”

Of course, leave it to Lucius to seclude himself in a bloody castle like the greedy arrogant bastard he was.

“So the idea is to take down the wards in one go, then use the experimental variant from the _Hominum Revelio_ spell Hermione has been working on which should show us the location of every offender occupying the scene.”

An impressed murmur rippled through the group.

“Yeah, she’s a bloody genius that one, I’m telling you” Ron said proudly “We’ll be out of a job in in ten years time if she keeps going” he scoffed.

“Anyway, once we know how many of them we’re talking about, we split up and move in. I want discretion, I want stealth and I want efficiency. Try to neutralize and incapacitate as much as you can, we’re gonna need a shitload of statements to get Catesby’s ass in Azkaban” Ron advised carefully, holding everyone’s gaze intently to impress upon them the importance of that idea.

The Aurors nodded as one, grim determination painting their features. Harry couldn’t help but fell a swelling pride for Ron. That’s what he was born to do. The raven-haired man exchanged a happy look with Hermione and reported his attention on the briefing.

“Remember lads, this is a rescue mission. Any questions? Ok great, gear up then, we’re taking off in five.”

* * *

The Lindisfarne Castle, a 16th century fortification located on an island off the coast of Northumberland in the Northern Sea was a fierce looking building on a rocky hill unrelentlessly assaulted by the wuthering and unforgiving eastern winds.

The team of Aurors -joined by Neville and Luna who had categorically refused to stay behind- discreetly apparated in a crook of the hill under strong concealment charms. They all advanced warily, scanning the island and surroundings for the tiniest manifestation of hostile presence.

With Hermione’s spells they determined a force of approximately 25 hostiles. Ron set up teams and a signal for the send off.

“Buckle up lads, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride” said Ron with a goofy grin met by perplexed looks.

“That’s it, you’re off muggle movies” sighed Hermione.

Ron ignored her then scattered the Aurors around the hill, encircling the castle.

When everyone stood at the ready, Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville and the freckled Auror set to work. In a collective and considerable effort, they took down the wards, beads of sweat sticking to their foreheads.

Then, they sent their Patronuses as the signal launching the assault.

“Let’s shut this fucker down” growled Harry fiercely.

* * *

As soon as the Aurors blasted the venerable wooden doors open, a chaos of flying hexes and shouted counter-curses settled over the stone castle.

Harry lost himself in the fray like he had countless times before. The young Auror jumped, dodged and cast, as sharp and quick as lightning bolt, his snake-like reflexes making up for his brazen and daring moves.

Inside him, a low thrum urged him to go faster, to blast anything and anyone that got in the way because Draco was here somewhere and he needed to make sure he was okay. The worry and paralyzing dread that had been filling him since he woke up concentrated in a blazing-hot adrenaline flushing through his veins like a wildfire.

The Hungarian were good, skilled and obviously trained for combat but the combination of surprise with the well-coordinated group slowly took over and they started to retreat.

Harry went after them, running as fast as he could, his scorched brown robes billowing after him. He lost the wizard he was running after and got himself in a huge fire lit room.

“At last, we meet again” said a cold voice Harry recognized instantly.

“Malfoy” spat Harry. “Where’s Draco?”

“Well, here with me, naturally!” laughed Lucius good-naturedly. “I must say, I had a whole plan to trap you and kill you but it’s nice of you to relieve me of this gruelling operation planning. How awfully thoughtful of you to come to me on your own accord.”

Harry didn’t answer, wand at the ready, not buying this affable masquerade. Something was off, he could feel it in his guts. Then all thoughts melted away in horror at the sight of Draco pinned to the wall, unconscious, covered in blood and indescribable wounds. His stomach churned as bile burnt the back of is throat.

“What did you do to him, you twisted bastard…” growled Harry.

“Nothing per se, Malfoys don’t get their hands dirty in this trivial manner. I undoubtedly enjoyed the show, though” answered the pale man, his long white-hair glowing gold with the light cast by the eight fires.

“He’s your own son…” said the Auror in disgust, appalled and speechless.

Lucius’ genuine, blood-curdling laugh resonated in the room. The insane grey eyes that looked so much like Draco’s and were so different at the same time fixated on his, cold and calculating.

Harry’ wandless surge of magic lashed out and hit Draco, yanking out the metal bars that held him to the wall and delicately levitating him on one of the sofas. Harrys gaze remained on the Death-Eather, shooting a quick glance at Draco. His body was limp but the bluish pulse under his opalescent skin told him he was alive.

“I’ll kill you for this” Harry promised darkly, the sombre edge inside him growing harder and wider like a huge scaly monster stretching his wings and sniffing at blood, thirsty for more.

“How positively chivalrous of you” scoffed Lucius “I take it Draco’s charms were successful? I must say I didn’t take you for a sodomite”

“I don’t care about your inbred-pure-blooded point of view, Malfoy” said Harry, eerily calm before his magic flew from his wand and engulfed Malfoy in dangerous flames that warmed the room instantly.

“Phew” said Malfoy elegantly, his hand batting coquettishly in front of his nose in a mock imitation of someone inconvenienced by smoke. Then a cruel smile stretched the thin lips and the grey eyes fell on Draco. In a fraction of second Harry, knew what was about to happen and jumped over the white unmoving body. The curse hit him in the leg, cutting through his flesh and muscles painfully and sending him bowling on the ground after he knocked down the sofa with the strength of his leap, his wand rolling away under a table. Draco was sprawled on his back beside him and a twitch agitated his biceps, his lips were almost blue. Harry grunted with pain, it felt like acid was burning everything and his blood was spilling everywhere, soaking the rug under him in seconds.

 _Femoral artery, at least partially severed judging by the pressure of the flow_ , diagnosed the clinical part of his brain. He only had minutes before he would bleed to death.

Harry ignored the voice and silently cast a shielding and warming charm on Draco to try and compensate his blood-loss.

The piece of furniture that concealed them from the Dark wizard was suddenly cast away and crashed against a wall behind them.

“It’s the last time you meddle in my affairs, Potter. I told you once you would meet the same sticky end than your parents, didn’t I?”

Harry didn’t answer and try to spell his wand out of his hand but the piece of wood didn’t budge. Creasing his brows, he cast an _Incarcero_ that had no effect either.

“Your little spells won’t affect me much I’m afraid, M. Potter. Briccius lent me the most delightful artefact, you see. Thanks to that handy device I’m very pleased to tell you that I’m completely invulnerable to magic.”

 _Fuck_. Harry could only hope someone would come to the rescue quickly. He glanced around him in search for a weapon of some kind but saw nothing; he was completely and utterly screwed.

The Auror felt resignation still the chaotic swirl of emotions inside him. He wouldn’t last long, black dots already clouding his vision from blood loss. Harry willed himself, fighting tooth and nails against the malicious drowsiness that claimed him, muscle by muscle.

“You’re finished, Malfoy, whether I live or die here in a puddle of my own blood” said Harry with all the bravado he could muster. The young wizard caught a move at the corner of his eye but kept his features blank.

“You’ll never harm anyone, ever gain” said Draco suddenly, rising unsteadily on shaky legs, the very image of defiance. His grey eyes were flashing with hatred and provocation.

Lucius’ laugh swelled and filled the room once again.

“Oh Draco, you’ll never cease to amuse me, I have to give it to you” another bark of laughter seized him then his features morphed in seething anger. He caught Draco by his hair and threw him on the ground, twisting his neck at an odd angle so his face was inches from him.

“Don’t you understand what a worthless piece of filth you are? You don’t even deserve the efforts I’m spending to erase you! You’re nothing, only a little toy for when I get bored and make you writhe on the floor in pain. You’ve never been more than that, you’re MY object, MY device, a mere THING. You’re empty, only a shell of a man, a coward…”

Anguish, hopelessness and shame fleeted on Draco’s face, tears silently spilling out of his silvery eyes.

Harry couldn’t bear the sight of him, belittled, reduced to nothing, crushed under his father words. He wanted to reach out, wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he was fierce and had a greatness nobody could dim. But instead, he watched powerlessly as he slowly slipped in unconsciousness. In a desperate effort, Harry twisted his fingers severely in his leg wound, biting his lips hard enough to severe the skin in order to stifle his scream of pain. The disgusting pain mixed with adrenaline immediately woke him up and the fog around his brain cleared momentarily.

“Don’t listen to him Draco! He’s the one who’s nothing, the slave of a man greater and more powerful than he will ever be. A man that treated him like a dog because he knew what cowardice and mediocrity lied inside him…”

With a growl, Lucius let go of Draco and turned to Harry, raising his wand menacingly, completely unhinged by the burning anger the young wizard could read in his eyes.

Harry had a last triumphant, taunting smile and spread his arms in a dauntless mocking gesture.

As Lucius opened his mouth for the lethal spell, his face went blank and he stayed motionless for an instant frozen in time, wide eyes and gaping mouth, before falling forward in an undignified heap of expensive fabric. Between his shoulder blades, almost buried to the hilt was a serrated knife.

Draco fell on his knees, his whole body trembling uncontrollably, struggling for air.

“He’s here!” screamed Hermione’s voice. “Oh my God Draco, are you…?... HARRY!”

“I’m fine” slurred Harry before sliding on his side and closing his eyes.

He could hear people scrambling around him with nervous and feverish voices. With a supreme effort, he managed to open his eyes. Hermione was casting a stasis charm on his leg.

Ron appeared at his side and propped him up on an armchair, looking anxious, his cheek smeared with dried blood.

“U ok, mate?” muttered Harry.

“Am _I_ okay, you’re joking, right?” said his best friend with a strangled voice “is that _his_ blood???”

Harry couldn’t hear Hermione’s response but seconds later, the redhead bellowed:

“SOUTHWELL!!! GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND!”

The spiky-haired Auror appeared a minute later, stricken and sullied by what looked like ash.

“You trained to be a Healer back in the day, right? Is there anything you can do?” asked Ron with a pleading voice.

She threw a critical look at Harry’s state then schooled her features in a professional blank mask.

“Move aside, I’ll handle it” she said firmly.

“You git, why do you always have to go and get yourself hurt, you’re a bloody moron, I tell you what, as soon as…” Harry drifted off for a minute, lulled by the steady flow of insults coming out of his friend’s mouth and Hermione’s tender caress in his hair. He smiled painfully, his severed lip crackling and oozing more drops of tepid blood.

“He’ll live” said Southwell gently.

She threw another spell that seemed like it gave him a night-long-sleep-and-hearty-meal worth of energy. He eyes fluttered and focussed on the pleasant features. Then he focussed on Hermione’s blackened face with tear streaks and Ron’s pale freckles.

“I’m okay” he said holding their hands with strength to emphasize his words. “Don’t worry”

They seemed to deflate with relief and collapsed against the armchair, one on each of his sides while Southwell kept busy on his wounds.

“That’s it, I’m retiring” muttered Ron.

“No way, you were brilliant” said Harry happily. And Ron’s shy smile warmed him inside.

“Everyone ok?” asked Harry anxiously.

“Yes, a few bruises and burns, a couple of nasty hexes but nothing bad” answered Hermione.

Harry nodded with relief. They remained silent for a while.

“Well, if I’m not retiring, I need to sort this mess then” Ron sighed dispiritedly.

“Go help him, Hermione, he needs it and I promise I’m fine”

“I’ll watch over him” assured Southwell. With a grateful smile, Hermione got up and followed Ron.

“Is Draco alright?” whispered Harry, ashamed he had momentarily forgotten about the blond.

“Yes, he’s just over here” she said and moved aside to reveal the white-haired man -two feet behind her- whose wounds were being tended to by another Auror, the one Harry had almost scared to death back at St Mungo’s. “Joey here is tending to his wounds. Impressive and nasty but non-magic, he should be all right”.

The sand-haired Auror gently wrapped Draco in his own shirt and the Slytherin thanked him gratefully. Then the Auror walked away with a kind hand gesture.

“Well, there’s nothing much I can do, just be sure to go to St Mungo’s so they can patch you up properly” finally said the brunette, patting him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Southwell”

“Call me Ivy” she said with a mirthful smile “I currently have pieces of your skin and a fair amount of your blood on my face, hands and hair, I believe we can use our first names now.”

“You bet” Harry chuckled and winced.

When Draco looked up at Harry, his stomach churned unpleasantly, reminding him of what the Slytherin had done.

“Thank you for everything” said Draco with a soft voice and Harry tensed up immediately. Southwell studied the pale blond, surprised. Then she smiled warmly and winked.

She took in Harry’s rigid posture and shot Draco a last encouraging smile before gathering her things and saying simply:

“I’ll leave you to it, then”

She got up to talk to Ron about the ton of paperwork they would need to fill.

A heavy silence grew between the two young men who carefully avoided each other’s stare.

“You’re mother is safe, by the way” Harry finally said. “She’s at St Mungo’s and they told us she should make it”

“Thanks” Draco exhaled a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was to catch the hurt and betrayal in the deep green eyes and he knew instantly what the Gryffindor was thinking about.

“Why?” Harry asked simply, his barrier up again in the blink of an eye, shut-in and guarded, almost defiant.

“I knew I didn’t stand a chance fighting you… I’m sorry…” said Draco miserably.

Harry laughed acidly and stood up awkwardly, limping on his injured leg.

“I see. So, you decided to use me instead” the dark-haired wizard was pinning him on the spot with his unforgiving X-ray stare, his face unreadable.

“Harry, I-” started Draco but the dark-haired wizard cut him off with a curt hand gesture.

“Yeah, you’re sorry, I got that” he paused. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He turned around and in a second, Draco was alone with his regrets.


	18. St Mungo's

“She will be alright, Draco. She’s a strong woman.”

The blond answered with a pale smile but his stare was hollow, fixated on the limp body of his mother, golden locks crowning her head on the plush pillow. On the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed, she seemed insignificant and so far from the picture of the proud and imposing woman she had always been it felt wrong. Her features were serene and she looked younger, but her skin was diaphanous, making the bluish blood vessels and multi-coloured bruises and wounds stand out sickeningly like veins on white marble.

When Hermione’s warm hand slipped inside his, he realised silent tears were rolling on his cheeks. They were standing beside the hospital bed. The fair-haired man could fell Ron’s silent and sympathetic -if awkward- tall presence behind him.

Draco was too tired and stricken to ponder on the surreal of the situation. He kept staring at his mother through a blurry world of salty beads for what felt like hours until he bushy brunette tugged at his hand and led him to a chair. She placed a hot cup of steaming something in his hand and urged him to drink it. Then a warm drowsiness fell on him like a lead weight. Just before he lost consciousness, he felt a fluffy cloth being placed on his cold limbs.

* * *

That morning, when the Boy Who Lived stormed in the Ministry, covered in blood and with a glare so furious and spine chilling it could’ve put a Basilisk’s to shame, every employee and visitor fled out of his way without a word, fearing for their lives. Of course, the flocks of terrified employees immediately regrouped in his wake to chatter animatedly about what was the Chosen One so mad about and whose head would end up on a spike in the Atrium.

But when the rumour that Harry Potter had quit after tearing up a new one at the Head of the Auror Bureau and blowing up his office reached the masses, no one could quite believe it. Still, they had felt the violent surge of magic that had lashed through the whole building like the aftershock of a magical Tsunami and tingled on their skin for minutes afterward. The boy wasn’t to be trifled with, that was for sure, and if anyone had forgotten that then his little show had put it at the forefront of anyone present.

It was whispered that Minister Shacklebot himself had gone down to level two in order to find out what had happened that morning in the offices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and had found a crazed Belarius Catesby holed up under his secretary’s desk, bellowing that Potter had to be executed immediately.

By noon, the rumour had blown out of proportions and witnesses claimed to anyone who’d listen that Potter had provoked Shacklebot in duel, seized power and disappeared in a lightning storm that had struck Catesby in the head and sent him to St Mungo’s. The Daily prophet was having a field day and Aurors were besieged by the press to get information about the incident and Potter’s wrath that had put the fear of God into half the employees of the Ministry.

One thing was for sure, Potter was gone. Nobody had seen him at work or at home where boosted repelling wards had royally thwarted off the bravest reporters with various and very inventive curses.

* * *

“So, what did Healer McFinley say?” asked Hermione brightly, patting the chair beside her in the hideous cafeteria that smelled of lavender and looked as if it had been moulded in pastel-coloured plastic. The overall effect was weirdly soothing and Draco fell in the designated seat with a yawn.

“She won’t have any permanent damage, she just needs to rest for a while and then she’ll be ‘as good as new’” he quoted sarcastically.

Hermione snorted good-naturedly and shook her head. The Gryffindor held him what looked like a plump little sandwich wrapped in brown paper. Now that the fear of losing one of the only people he had left in the world had lifted from his shoulders, he realized he was ravenous. He took the sandwich with a grateful smile and took a huge celebratory bite, forgetting all sense of decorum. It was absolutely delicious and he groaned with satisfaction.

“Molly made it for you” she said maliciously and Draco almost choked on his second bite. He coughed and hiccupped until Ron magically appeared in his sight and dislodged the offending parcel of food for his throat with vigorous and over enthusiastic claps on the back.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned. Mum would never sanction any waste of food, even for a git like you” he chuckled.

“She visited us yesterday and she saw you in the corridor” provided Hermione “apparently she was not impressed with your weight. She says you’re so thin you could dodge raindrops”

“What a disturbing image” he said dazedly.

 _Hell must have frozen over when I was asleep_ , he mused while thoughtfully eating the rest of his sandwich. He caught an exchange of worried glances between the freckled redhead and the bushy brunette and pretended to be absorbed in a hospital leaflet about Dragon pox.

“I got news from work” Ron said in a low voice.

“What happened? Don’t tell me Briccius escaped?”

Draco’s heart missed a beat.

“No no, it’s nothing like that” she sighed, relieved and the blond couldn’t blame her. “Erm, I don’t know how to put this but yesterday morning, Harry apparently barged in the Ministry covered in blood and limping –like the stubborn git he is- then he quit and blew up Catesby’s office”

“He did what???” she squeaked, scandalized, then pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because he’s Harry and he gets into the worst messes anybody could think of every two other months?” said Ron with an affectionate smile.

She chuckled.

“Yes, that’s a way to put it”

“Anyway, I promised Dad I would come by the Ministry today, I think Kingsley has been asking about… you know.”

“Oh, alright, give them both my best”

“I will, see you later” he kissed her on the lips and hugged her briefly before turning away.

“Bye, Ferret-face”

“Bye, Weaselby” answered Draco pleasantly.

With a laugh he left.

Hermione sighed and laid back in her chair.

“Well at least he didn’t kill him, I suppose that’s a start” she said wearily.

“Ron?”

“No, Catesby” she explained “Last time, when Ron and Harry went to him to set up an intervention to get you out of there and he said no, it already was a close call. Ron told me he had never seen Harry that angry before. Which is a lot coming from Ron, believe me”

“Yeah, I bet.” Draco said in a breath, his insides tied in knots at the memory of their last conversation.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s alright on my way home tonight. And I’ll give him a piece of my mind” she said fiercely. And for a moment, Draco was amused at the prospect of a furious Hermione storming in Grimmault Place. Then his smile faltered when he remembered he wasn’t welcome in the old house anymore. Hermione seemed to have followed his train of thoughts because she asked:

“Draco, what happened between you two?”

Draco avoided her hazel warm eyes and searched for his words.

“I… I fucked up. Extensively. I was worried about my mother and he wouldn’t let me go so I… tricked him…” he trailed off. “And now he probably wants me dead” he added darkly.

“Well, he did look pretty mad at you…” agreed Hermione carefully.

“That he was… And I think there’s no fixing it” said the tall blond bitterly, a sinking, nauseous feeling invading his chest.

“Look Draco, as previously demonstrated, Harry _can_ be a bit… temperamental, to say the least” she offered him a tiny smile. “But it seems like you mean a lot to him. He was freaking out when you disappeared and you should’ve seen his face when your mother told him everything…” she trailed off. “It was like in the old days.”

Draco got lost for a moment in a dark time with news never good, choices never enough and people dying before eyes that were far too young. He shivered.

“Just… give him time” she advised and took his hand warmly.


	19. At the Leaky

The Leaky Cauldron was packed to the rafters, full of a cheering crowd and without Hermione’s stroke of genius for their booking, they would have been in a dire situation. Comfortably installed in a modest alcove, the three of them were exchanging news and celebrating Catesby’s undignified but well-deserved sacking (the bugger was now waiting for his trial) and Ron’s promotion as Head Auror.

“Congratulations buddy, you’re going to be a great Head Auror!” said Harry warmly for the umpteenth time while clinking his glass against Ron’s. He wasn’t drunk yet but it wouldn’t be long if he kept going.

The redhead -who was much closer to a gin-induced oblivion- beamed and went redder that a boiled lobster. Seconds later, his grin turned in a mixture of sheepishness and embarrassment.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back, mate?” he whispered, for no apparent reason “I’m sure Kingsley would give you the position in a heartbeat! Or at least your own team, you know” he mumbled.

“Are you crazy??? Ron, you bloody well deserve this and you’re way more qualified for the job than I will ever be! I would be rubbish at this but I know you’re going to be brilliant”

“Thanks” mumbled Ron, apparently unconvinced.

“Look Ron, I need a break from the job right now. I haven’t been happy for a long time doing it and it would be no good to just come back and pretend that I do.”

“But it would be different, now! No more Catesby! No more stupid shift and teapot cases!” he paused and seemed to realize something “It weirds you out, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“Me, being, you know… practically… your boss… You would hate it” he said, looking at the bottom of his glass, and the end of his sentence was almost lost in a whisper.

“Are you fucked in the head? I would love to work for you and it wouldn’t feel weird at all, you stupid bastard! You were born to do this! You’re the planner, the strategist, the chess-player. I’m more of a…” Harry trailed off, struggling for words.

“Blast-Ended Skrewt?” suggested Ron somewhat sluggishly, lightly swaying on his stool.

“Yeah, exactly!” answered Harry, laughing in his Firewhisky at Ron’s proud grin. He was so happy for his friend he felt like a bubble about to explode with pride. Ron deserved it, he meant it. It was about time he shone a bit and showed everyone what he was capable of.

Hermione came back with a new drink, her smile was so bright and she looked so happy that he felt like his insides had melted a little bit. Maybe not drunk but a tipsy sappy mess for sure…

It was good to forget a moment about his gloomy thoughts, his empty, cold house that didn’t feel the same anymore and the hollow feeling growing bigger everyday inside him. Harry pushed the thought at the back of his head. Tonight was about Ron and celebration, he told himself firmly.

“Did you really blow up Catesby’s office?” asked Ron with an incredulous smile, like a child half-convinced it’s not true but half-hoping it is. Harry sighed.

“Yes, I did… I’m not particularly proud of it” he added quickly, shooting a side tentative look at Hermione. “But I’ll admit it felt brilliant” he scoffed. Hermione hid her smile in her pint, her brows creased in a half-hearted stern demonstration.

“Genius” said the redhead delightedly.

Harry chuckled, embarrassed.

“Neville” Ron suddenly bellowed when the sand-haired wizard appeared in the crowd.

“Hello, everyone!”

“Hi, Neville” said Hermione and Harry waved enthusiastically at his friend to greet him. He pushed back the jolt that caught him off guard when he saw a glint of light shining on pale blond hair in the crowd. The wizard was shorter and broader than Draco and his dark eyes had nothing to do with the silvery-cold-warmth of the Slytherin’s.

“Congrats, Ron, that’s great news!” Neville exclaimed and slapped huge, friendly slaps on his back. They both became quickly engrossed in an eager conversation and Harry turned back to find Hermione looking at him thoughtfully.

“Are you alright?” she asked with a knowing gleam in her warm chestnut irises.

“No. But I will be” he said earnestly. _Eventually_.

“So Vador, how are things at the Death Star?” asked Harry as a decoy. He didn’t want to push the subject and he knew Hermione was about to say something painfully true and it wasn’t likely he wanted to hear it.

“It’s not the Death Star Harry” she laughed lightly “merely the Department of Experimental Magic”

After the War, Hermione had managed to create then preside the Board for Magical Cooperation, which oversaw tremendous restructuration in the Ministry on matters ranging from Goblin’s relations, Magical Creatures Protection, Criminal Reinsertion policies, et cetera. Then, since it apparently wasn’t enough of a challenge for her, she managed to secure funds in order to create a new Ministry Department dedicated to Experimental Magic. She had tried to explain what it dealt with many times but from what Harry had gathered, it sounded complicated, fascinating –according to Hermione who had a slightly different views on the matter than ordinary mortals- and involved more or less every type of magic that existed, healing and technology.

“My way sounds loads more fun” he mumbled petulantly.

“Things are great actually. I… We are recruiting several new consultants and… I should tell you that I offered a job to Draco”

Harry felt something suspiciously close to a frozen stone falling into his guts. He looked up from his drink, saw Hermione’s anxious eyes and steeled himself, trying to school his features.

Hermione babbled frantically, the words tumbling from her mouth faster and faster, avoiding his cool, green stare.

“You see, he’s a really gifted Wizard and his knowledge on old magic is quite unmatched, Alarbus –Alarbus Cargrave, one of my colleagues, I think I mentioned him before, he’s a world expert on energy-based engineering spells- anyway, he said he had never seen someone so young and well-versed in creative magic and reversal techniques. He’s also very intuitive with designing spells so I thought-”

“Hermione” cut Harry with a soft voice “It’s great. I’m sure you’ll be very beneficial to one another. I’m happy for you, there’s no need to panic. I’m not mad, it’s great news, really”

He forced what he intended as a reassuring smile that felt foreign on his lips and held Hermione’s eyes resolutely.

“Oh” she said, taken aback. “Okay, then.”

“He deserves to get on with his life after being caught up in his father’s schemes for so long” he added almost robotically.

“Yes, he does” said Hermione softly. She hesitated and asked cautiously, dropping her voice “Did you see him lately?”

“No. Not since Lindisfarne. He doesn’t need to hide away in Grimmault Place anymore now that Lucius is dead and his _friends_ in Azkaban.” Harry said with an even tone.

“Harry…” but Hermione stopped right in her tracks when the Gryffindor shot her a fierce, warning look, all deep green and steel.

A little while later, Harry was walking briskly in the streets, oblivious to the fragrant heat of this mid-July evening, a seeping black tide swarming him and saturating every atom with bitterness like an oil spill. Pretending he was tired, he had quickly said his goodbyes under the helpless stare of Hermione but he couldn’t afford to care about that right now.

He just needed to go home. But as he tried to persuade himself, even he knew it was pointless. He wouldn’t feel any better at home where everything reminded him of bittersweet memories that invariably led to a stinging rematch of Draco’s betrayal.

When he reached the dark wooden door, Harry almost hesitated, an irrational mixture of hope and dread seized him as he wrapped his hands around the doorknob. He braced himself and pushed the door but nothing was out of the ordinary. The house was as dull and uninviting than he had left it earlier.

No smell other than burnt toast was coming from the kitchen and no cup of tea or unfinished crossword was sitting on the workbench. He stepped in the living room and the sight of the red-golden snake coiled in the old armchair where Draco would curl up and read late in the night wrenched his guts.

“ _Indeed, the bacon is sour_ ” said Algernon sanctimoniously, dreaming.

Ignoring his unsettled stomach, Harry cupped the snake muscled length and took him with him upstairs for a night-time cuddle session.

“ _Going for a night stroll, moss-beaded-one?_ ” asked the snake drowsily.

“ _Just going to bed, Algernon_ ” answered Harry absently.

“ _Ah yes, cuddly-softy-scratch, how very excellent_ ” commented Al contentedly, coiling around Harry’s wrists and pressing softly against the warm skin affectionately.

He suddenly felt a surge of gratitude toward Luna for giving him the quirky snake.

As he climbed the stairs, he almost didn’t lay his eyes on the door where he had kissed Draco under the influence of the wine that had made him throw all caution to the wind that night. The ex-Auror clenched his teeth and kept climbing

“ _Mice have no say in the matter if not plump and juicy…_ ” dreamt Al.

“ _No, they do not_ ” agreed Harry distractedly. He carefully laid the snake on the bed and undressed himself with a mindless spell. Minutes later, he was curling on his side and relishing the feel of the fresh and thin cotton sheets on his naked heated skin, breathing hard the smells of the summer that went through the opened window and stroking the tepid scales in an abstract pattern.

“ _Impudent bifid-mouth hatchlings!_ ”

Hours later, Harry drifted in an agitated sleep filled with the smell of lemons and elusive languid caresses from someone he could never catch and continually mocked him with a cutting accent and a honey-sharp voice. The young man woke up breathless, impossibly aroused and with all his nerves set ablaze.


	20. Lemon & Spice

When Harry got back from what had become his daily flying session on a viciously cold and windy October day, walking with his concealed broom in hand in the gloomy street, the sight of a sleek platinum shock of hair greeted him on the front steps of 12, Grimmault Place. His guts twisted painfully. Draco was waiting, elegantly dressed in a long, dark coat that clung perfectly to his slender frame. Gryffindorishly, Harry braced himself mentally and plastered a neutral face on his frozen features. Apart from what Hermione had told him, he hadn’t got any news from the blond or any contact since the showdown almost three months ago.

Draco looked stiff but healthy, his aristocratic features as sharp as always.

“Harry” he said with a soft, hesitant voice.

“Draco” answered Harry with a fake even tone.

“May I come in?” asked the blond warily. The ex-Auror just shrugged and let the door open behind him. He stepped in the kitchen and put the kettle on the fire, then proceeded to remove his gloves, scarf and coat. He nonchalantly tossed the lot on a chair, revealing a tattered Quidditch outfit. Draco was standing in the room, nonplussed with this detached and quiet Harry.

“Tea?” casually offered the dark-haired wizard without looking at him.

“Yes, please” answered Draco automatically.

A cold silence stretched between them. Draco fidgeted with his dark leather gloves and Harry kept busy on the workbench.

“I’ve been selected for Healer training at St Mungo’s” Draco finally blurted out, just to break the heavy silence.

“Congratulations” said Harry politely “I didn’t realize you applied.”

“Well, you were the one who gave me the idea, actually. And I had the foolishness of mentioning it in front of Hermione. It took some convincing from her but one does not say no to that woman indefinitely. She seems hell-bent in making something out of me” he joked but his tentative at lightening the mood was met by nothing but a polite tight smile from Harry.

Fortunately, the whistle of the kettle went at his rescue and freed him from the cool and indecipherable green gaze. Harry poured the boiling water into cups, added milk and sugar to one of them and held it to Draco. He took the other one and sat at the end of the table, raising his cup and sipping from it, staring at Draco calmly and expectantly. His calm demeanour was utterly unnerving and Draco bristled, anger coiling around his spine.

“Are you going to finally say something or you’re just going to stay here, as mute as a bloody statue?” he snapped.

Harry took a sip out of his cup and looked thoughtfully at the dark and steaming liquid in his mug.

“I don’t know. What do you want me to say?” he asked evenly.

“Anything. Yell at me, shout, punch me, throw me out, hex me into next week, just… do something!” Draco was pacing the room frustratedly.

“Are you quite finished?” asked Harry coldly.

“No, I’m not finished!” he exclaimed. Draco slammed his hand on the table and spilled his cup of tea. “I’m sorry for what I did, alright? And I can’t live with the fact that in spite of it, you came running to my rescue and you almost got killed for it!”

“Well, sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations” said the ex-Auror darkly.

“You’re bloody insufferable!” Draco shouted vehemently, his eyes shining bright in the mid-morning light.

“And yet, you’re here.” Harry pointed out. He crossed his arms and looked at Draco’s face severely.

“And yet, I’m here” said the blond feebly, all traces of anger vanished. He turned away from him in a desperate attempt to hide his face.

“What do you want Draco?” asked the ex-Auror implacably. Draco remained silent for a while, staring at the enchanted window.

“It wasn’t all pretend you know” the pale blond finally said.

“What?”

“That night, in Sirius room... I…wasn’t pretending. It meant something to me. I knocked you out because I had to but I didn’t plan it that way, it just… happened.”

Harry remained silent and Draco kept talking, hesitantly. He had nothing to lose.

“When you kissed me after the party… I didn’t dare hope but… I did. I did hope it wasn’t just the wine. I hoped…” his voice faltered and trailed off.

“It wasn’t” finally said Harry. Draco turned back to face him, shocked.

“Then why the hell did you run away like that?” The blond wanted to know. Harry rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“Because I had forced myself on you and… I didn’t want you to respond only because you felt indebted to me.”

“Harry… It’s nothing like that. Of course I felt in your debt but it doesn’t mean I would have…. let you have your way with me as repayment” Draco shook his head. “Is it so hard to believe that I just want you?”

“Do you?” Said Harry cynically, a disillusioned smile stretching his lips. Draco gaped. The git was just clueless.

“So hard, sometimes I can hardly breathe” he murmured. Harry didn’t expect that, his cold front fell at that exact moment and the green irises filled with doubt. He searched the silver gaze for the truth and Draco could see he didn’t believe him.

“Harry is this because of Ginny and… that guy Hermione talked about, the one in your team?”

The dark-haired wizard avoided his stare and searched for his words.

“Let’s just say, no one ever wants me just for… me” he answered evenly.

“I do.”

“No you don’t. Not really. Once you see what you signed up for, you won’t.” he sighed. “That’s why I was so mad at you, I guess. You made me believe for a second that…” he laughed darkly and shook his head. “Just forget it.”

“Harry, just-”

“Stop” his voice cracked like a whip and Draco felt his magic soar around them, electric, menacing. He had gotten up in a fraction of second and he looked unhinged, dangerous.

“You’re going to walk out this door, train to be a Healer and leave me alone.” His impossibly green eyes locked his with a fierceness that made the white-blond shiver. Then he turned around and cleaned the table with a flick of his wand.

“Now go.” his tone was iron-steel.

“I told you before, I’m not taking orders from you” said Draco equally fiercely. He grabbed Harry’s collar and brought him against his torso brutally.

“What are y-” started Harry angrily but Draco cut him off with a scorching kiss. At first the ex-Auror struggled but he gave up when Draco’s deft tongue asked for passage, brushing his lips tantalizingly. Then he gave up and let his body answer back vehemently, anger and frustration lashing out gloriously in a scorching kiss that nearly drove the tall blond insane. His magic was flaring around them like an electrical storm, tingling on their skin in an entrancing caress. Draco moaned, hopelessly and Harry slipped his hands through his white hair. The kiss was like being stuck in a blizzard that swept away everything on its path. The blond wizard rode the outburst for what could’ve been hours or mere minutes then gasped and reached out for air. He was panting and Harry was too, but his green eyes were alit with something so vibrant it shook him to the core. With shaking hands, he cupped his square jaws and rested his forehead against the Gryffindor’s, drowning in the viridian orbs.

“I’m not one of your fan girls, Harry. It’s you I want, not the Chosen One, just you” he murmured feverishly. “I know you have a darkness in you, I know about the nightmares, the scars. I know you did things that still haunt you. But I don’t care. I want you, I want every piece, every crack, every scar. You see, I’m scarred too, I’m broken too. So I know what it’s like.”

“Are you quite finished?” said Harry roughly and Draco froze. “Because you’re driving me mad right now.” He drew him against him once more, his hands clutching the blond’s backside possessively.

Relieved, the white-blond wizard laughed warmly “Bastard. I thought you were going to throw me out.”

He was about to add another cutting remark but lost all coherent thought when the dark-haired man tugged at his shirt and hot hands wandered on the pale skin underneath.

“I couldn’t, even if my life depended on it” Harry answered breathlessly. “Do you have any idea how hard I had to restrain myself not to jump you in a corridor all these weeks? I should get a medal for this...” His low voice was like grovel and went directly to Draco’s cock, which throbbed.

“Merlin…” Draco moaned “You already have plenty of medals, don’t you want a different kind of reward for a change…?” Harry groaned and sucked his neck brazenly, covering Draco’s skin in delicious shivers. “And you’re the one to talk, you look like a bloody wet dream in Quidditch gear” he groaned.

Then Draco was a little taken aback by the sudden feeling of everything spinning and constricting him suddenly. When he opened his eyes, he was in Harry’s bedroom. The room was surprisingly ungryffindorish. The walls were covered with a very soft grey silk and the windows were huge. A lot of books were scattered everywhere and dark brown robes were lying on a chair near a chest of drawers that looked utterly untidy. On the walls were pictures of Harry’s friends and family. A happy jumble of disparate objects was hanging from the ceiling on translucent threads. Pictures, coins, feathers, pieces of wood and rocks amongst other things.

But as curious as Draco was, he didn’t have the patience to remain focused on his inspection longer, his blood was drumming in his ears and his lips were still tingling and swollen from their tumultuous kisses. He turned back to Harry with a ravenous stare. In one step, Draco was on him. The tall Slytherin kissed him again and tugged at the hem of his shirt. Draco pulled the offending piece of clothing over his head and his hungry eyes raked on the tanned and powerful torso. God, the guy was hot, thought Draco in a haze.

But something had changed. The Gryffindor’s features had turned in a deep anxious frown.

“What is it, Harry?”

“Nothing… It’s just-”

Draco’s heart missed a beat.

“Harry, is it… your first time?”

“Well, I shagged a muggle girl in a club but it doesn’t really qualify as experience, right?” Said the dark-haired wizard embarrassedly. “Sorry, I should have told you before…” The Gryffindor seemed acutely self-conscious, his muscles tensed and his eyes guarded. A warm feeling surged in Draco.

“It doesn’t matter” he whispered in his hear, his breath tingling Harry’s neck and covering him in goose bumps “Let me show you.”

Draco kissed him again, slowly, tenderly and unbuckled his belt. Harry’s breath caught and his hips jumped forward reflexively. The white-haired man smiled against his lips and opened his fly, his pace ran when he found out Harry wasn’t wearing anything under the faded Quidditch pants. He unhurriedly kneeled before the Gryffindor on the smooth carpet and slowly removed the piece of clothing covering his hips and legs. The blond then languidly ran his hands on the strong thighs and firm buttocks. Harry’s breath was shallow, and his head had fallen back, revealing a glorious tanned neck that woke Draco’s hunger. _Later_ , he told himself. His stare snapped back to the next target of his ministrations. Harry’s shaft was tensed and fully erect, twitching desperately for attention. A few drops of precome had dripped from the tip and crowned it with pearly beads. Draco got closer, feathering the throbbing flesh with his breath. Harry’s whole body tensed and he involuntarily clenched his fists. With a wolfish smile, the Slytherin started brushing the hot shaft with his tongue, caressing the inside of Harry’s thighs and letting Harry’s spicy taste roll on his tongue. A stifled, desperate sound came from the ex-Auror’s gritted teeth. Draco suddenly engulfed him in a wet-hot mouth, revelling in the soft skin sliding inside effortlessly and the strangled cries the young man above him was letting out. Harry was clutching the wooden pillar of his bed in a death grip, hanging on for dear life.

“Oh God…” He panted “Ooooh. For Fuck’s sake, that’s just, that’s just…” but the rest of his sentence was lost in a whimper. Draco hummed contentedly, knowing how good those vibrations felt. He was rewarded with a small cry.

Then when he felt Harry was about to explode, the white-blond stopped and stood again, peppering Harry’s unresponsive face with light kisses. He looked already so far gone with his lust-blown deep-green irises, his swollen parted lips and flushed cheeks that Draco had to use all the restraint he could muster not to ravish him here and now.

He manoeuvred the dark-haired man to the end of the bed and pushed him gently so the Gryffindor would sit back on the cobalt-blue covers. Harry looked at him with a gaze so charged with trust and desire that Draco could have come on the spot. He took a deep breath and started undressing under the hungry green orbs. The Gryffindor’s eyes were raking over his body with evident voracity.

“Merlin Draco… You’re so beautiful…” he whispered feebly. The Slytherin came closer and Harry’s eyes fell between his hips, to the twitching flesh that demanded his attention. Draco was already painfully hard and impossibly aroused, he wondered how long he was going to last at this rate. The raven-haired wizard seemed hypnotized by the sight of his pale and hard flesh.

“Can I…?”

“Yes”

The callous hands wrapped delicately around him and he moaned with a long throaty sound. But before he could recover from the delicious sensation of being stroked, a hot wetness closed around his cock and he nearly came when he saw the Gryffindor and his wild mane of jet-black hair slowly bobbing up and down his length.

“God, yes” he hissed wantonly. But he had to be strong he had to- for Heavens’ sake where did Harry learned _that???_

Draco reluctantly freed his cock from the delicious contact and made Harry lie back on the bed. He watched the sight of the athletic body and felt as if his heart -and cock- was going to explode.

“You have no idea what you look like, do you?” he said at last, voice hoarse.

“Why don’t you show me, then?” Answered Harry with a provocative glint in his eyes that went straight to Draco’s cock.

He took his wand and put it on the bed next to him then laid down too and covered the bronze body with his own, relishing in the contact of Harry’s burning skin. The Gryffindor arched his back and their cocks slided against each other in a delicious friction that got them both breathless. Draco then straddled him and firmly grabbed the two hard lengths in his left hand, starting to stroke them together. Harry trashed under him and buried his face in the pillow, his hands clutching the sheets and his body arching again. Draco’s breath hitched. He reached for his wand. With a quick spell he slicked his hands with a translucent and odourless substance. Still rubbing at both cocks, he started playing with his own entrance, teasing the palpitating flesh. He inserted one, then two fingers and scissored inside the tight channel. It didn’t take long, he was way too turned on by the writhing Gryffindor who completely unravelled under his touch.

“Harry….”

The green stare snapped at him and his irises widened and darkened when he understood what Draco was doing with his right hand.

“Harry, I need you… I need you now” he murmured lowly and rose slightly on his knees. The dark-haired man understood the message. Without a word, he aligned himself with the slick entrance and gasped at the hot contact, shutting his eyes closed. Then with a slow thrust of his hips he breached the tight ring of muscles and a deep groan escaped his lips.

“Oh God... God, Draco you feel so good…” he moved tentatively and let out another low howl, his hands clasping his hips hard enough to bruise the marmoreal skin.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop” begged Draco, his head falling back. Harry complied, pressing himself in and out of Draco slowly, parting his cheeks with both his hands and letting out a steady flow of imprecations in a low, husky tone. One of is hands wandered and touched the place where his flesh pressed inside Draco’s, his cock jumped inside the blond who moaned.

Then Harry moved, his hips pumping harder and the blond shuddered.

“Yes! Yes, right there, stay right there, so good…” Draco sobbed and rocked his hips, making Harry cry out too.

“Harder, please fuck me hard, Harry!”

The shameless pleading of the Slytherin made his blood boil in his veins and Harry picked up the pace, pounding into Draco, losing himself in the snap of flesh crashing against flesh, in Draco’s citrusy smell around him, in the hot tightness around his cock and the sight of the blond, decadently dishevelled, white hair tousled and messy, biting his lips, his face and chest flushed, his grey eyes almost black with lust, rolling frantically his hips and meeting his thrusts desperately as the thrill went up and up and up again.

“Yes! Yes! Oh, God yes” he exclaimed wantonly as he came, coating Harry’s stomach with tight ropes of come. His internal muscles constricted almost painfully and Harry came too, erratically bucking while riding out his orgasm, waves of pure ecstasy exploding in his skull and a low, broken cry tumbling out of his mouth. After what felt like an eternity had passed, Draco flopped down on his back beside Harry, breathing heavily. Harry wasn’t sure he hadn’t momentarily passed out back there but he didn’t care. A warm and fuzzy feeling of satiety and contentedness settled over him like a fluffy blanket. Wandlessly, he bid the sheets to retract then cover them because he didn’t trust his limbs at this point.

“Draco… That was… that was just… incredible...” he mumbled sleepily. A wide grin painted his features when the object of his praise huddled against him.

“How very eloquent, Mr Potter…” he said seductively, running a hand on his torso evocatively.

“How very shaggable, Mr Malfoy…” Harry shot back wickedly. Then he laughed.

“What?” the Slytherin arched a white-blond brow poshly.

“I was just picturing our teenage selves, horrified by what just happened” he laughed again, making Draco’s head bob lightly.

“Well, actually, I would say that my teenage self would’ve been quite smug about it and not so horrified…”

“What? I thought you hated me??” exclaimed the dark-haired man.

“I hated you. But I wanted to fuck you into oblivion.”

“Waow. Okay. That was unexpected.” He paused. “Now that I think about it… I did get some very disturbing dreams a couple of times…”

“Wet dreams…?” smirked Draco.

“Huh, maybe?” said Harry sheepishly.

Draco’s laugh burst out in the room before Harry’s discomfited expression. But he kissed him tenderly and murmured “Flattered.”

* * *

Harry woke up with a delicious warm and firm body pressed against his. He breathed in a faceful of lemon-scented white hair contentedly. With a burst of happiness he realized the agitation from earlier hadn’t been a dream. The Gryffindor felt a definite flush creeping on his cheeks at the memory and arousal pooled in his loins. His breathing picked up a notch.

It was still early and the room was filled with a grey, tentative light that barely drew the contours of the furniture.

A slight tremor ran along the firm weight pressed against Harry’s front and a little whimpering noise escaped the blond. Already hard and breathless, the Gryffindor tightened his possessive arm around the narrow hips, his cock pressing against the fine pale arse. He stifled a groan, the over sensitive skin sending delightful electrical shocks in his whole body. Harry kissed the pale neck lazily and messily, grazing the warm skin. In a surge of rash boldness, Harry caressed the flat stomach, angular hipbones, traced the round form of Draco’s arse and slipped his trembling fingers between his cheeks, brushing the tender flesh, his heart beating hard.

The sound that tumbled messily from the sleepy Slytherin made his cock jump.

“Mmmmh… and good morning to you too” said Draco seductively with a rough voice that made Harry’s blood boil. He rolled his hips tantalizingly, grinding his arse against Harry’s eager cock with obvious delight, eliciting a hopeless, desperate moan from the Gryffindor who was by then already unable to form coherent sentences. Draco flexed his hips deftly and slipped Harry’s cock between his legs, he resumed his rocking motions, the long shaft rubbing the puckered entrance, the stretch of sensitive flesh between the cheeks and the soft round shapes at the end.

Harry gripped the long thigh and bit Draco’s shoulder with a growl then retaliated by fisting the pale cock tightly in his hand without moving. The white-blond hissed in pleasure and started thrusting in the firm grip then pushing back on Harry’s cock, making the raven-haired man pant.

Hell, Draco was so hot. Gloriously, conclusively, insanely hot.

He was suddenly overcome by the urge to map his body with his tongue, to slide his mouth all over the marmoreal body.

In a fluid and sneaky move, he rolled the blond on his back and slipped inside his parted legs. Harry shut up the scandalised Slytherin with a dirty, messy kiss.

“Gryffindors _do not_ kiss like that” said Draco with a strain.

“Yes, they fucking do” said Harry in his deep raspy voice then started is wet exploration of the perfect pale body, forgetting his inexperience and self-consciousness.

Draco’s neck tasted delicious, salty and citrusy. Alternating wet and open mouth kisses with light bites and gentle sucks, Harry made his way down the white torso, delicately caught a nipple between his teeth and teased it with the tip of his tongue. Draco arched his back with a broken mewl that went straight to Harry’s cock. _Not yet_ , he told himself.

Reluctantly, he let go of the nipple and glided over the flat, defined stomach when Draco’s fingers slipped in his hair, tense and eager. A devilish smile stretched Harry’s lips and he went lower, nudging the hard shaft with his mouth, teasing Draco with his hot breath and making him squirm and moan with frustrated want. Harry ignored the quivering hips mercilessly, nibbling on the Slytherin’s inner thighs.

“Harry… If you don’t do something very quick, I swear I’ll do it myself” he threatened.

“Tsk tsk…” answered Harry wickedly “Really Draco… I thought _I_ was the frustrated virgin”

“How dare you, you dirty little-” he started, but his dark acerbic rant ended in a squeak of shocked surprise as Harry’s tongue had found another target, the patch of puckered sensitive flesh he had been acquainted with a few hours before.

“Oooh sweet Merlin” the blond sobbed uncontrollably.

Harry smiled and kept on licking and teasing the tight entrance, getting bolder and bolder with Draco’s helpless sounds of pleasure. Harry finally breached the ring of muscles, pushing his way in the hot wetness with delight, darting and retreating hungrily.

He snuck a glimpse at the beautifully dishevelled blond, thrashing, arching and clutching the headboard as if his life depended on it. Draco’s head had fallen back in the cushions and his body was flushed and covered in goose bumps. His gorgeous cock was fully erect and shining with precome.

Something snapped inside Harry at the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. With a flick of his will, he slicked his hands, stroked his cock once then covered the blond’s body with his and positioned the tip of his slippery cock on the hot entrance. Worrying Draco’s neck with his teeth he asked hoarsely:

“Are you ready?”

“Harry Potter, you’d better fuck me right now or so help me God, I’ll-”

Harry forced his mouth on his and breached him in one long thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt in the hot wetness.

“Draco… Oh God Draco, you’re so fucking tight…” he said in a broken husky voice.

His head fell on Draco’s shoulder and he stood motionless, his whole body racked by shudders. The Slytherin wrapped his arms around him, caressing his muscular constricted back vibrating with effort.

Then Draco’s hips lifted from the mattress with a throaty sound, silently begging him to move.

Harry exhaled a shivering breath and rolled his hips slowly, pumping in and out of Draco’s body cautiously. Draco moaned deeply and pushed him inside him with his leg pressing on Harry’s lower back, urging him deeper.

“You want more, Draco?” he rasped.

“Yes” hissed the blond, grey eyes swirling like a winter storm.

Still standing on his elbows, Harry curved his left hand under the blond’s arse and slipped his right forearm beneath his shoulder, threading his finger in the white-gold strands.

“Your wish is my command” he purred. Then he started to move, pressing Draco into the mattress with his thrusts, pinning him beneath him with the hand on his arse. He fisted his hair and tugged his head backwards, exposing the ivory flesh of his neck he then devoured as he picked up the pace of his hips.

Draco wrapped his legs around him, already high on a rush of pleasure, intoxicated by Harry’s smell, feel and sounds.

With a grunt, the Gryffindor changed his angle, trying to find the spot that would make Draco lose his mind. After a few attempts he finally found it and the white-blond bucked beneath him like a wild horse.

Harry released his hair and arse and used clutched his shoulders from underneath so he could fuck him harder still and prevent Draco from slipping up the bed under his forceful thrusts.

“I’m close… I’m so close, please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t…” he faltered as a devastating wave of pleasure rolled over him and shook his whole body with a strangled cry, cotaing their tangled body with hot semen.

Short breathed and on the brink of collapse, Harry’s muscles were aching, his lungs burning but he kept going without faltering. Draco’s body relaxed and when he looked up to meet Harry’s eyes, the Gryffindor emptied himself noisily in the quivering hot channel, Draco’s name on his lips.

He collapsed on his back and took greedy gulps of air, waiting for the black spots in his vision to subside. Harry feared he was about to faint.

“Draco Malfoy, you’ll be the death of me” he declared gravely between to scratchy inhalations “but I’ll definitely die a happy man.”

“No one is going to die in that bed” said the blond firmly.

“I’m not so sure about that…”

 _Shame Voldemort didn’t think of that_ , he thought stupidly, an involuntary absurd chuckle bubbling in his chest.

“In that case, I shall miss your impressive stamina and that scandalous filthy little thing you did earlier with your tongue” Draco purred while stretching languorously like a big white cat.

Harry’s cock twitched treacherously at the sight, under the rapt attention of the smug blond.

“That cock of yours is truly insatiable…” smirked the blond seductively “now come here…” he added with a wicked smile.

“Yup, that’s it, I’m dying today.”


	21. Epilogue

Harry kissed Draco lazily and tugged at his shirt.

“This is SO not going to happen, Potter” snapped Draco and stepped back.

“What?” asked Harry innocently.

“I know perfectly well what’s happening in that dirty one-tracked little mind of yours and it’s a big fat ‘no’.”

“Usually, you don’t complain about my dirty one-tracked mind, as I recall”

“Yeah well, the guests are supposed to be here in half an hour and you know bloody well that Granger and Longbottom are always early” he said in a warning tone.

“Come on, just a little…” but the wards shimmered and cut him off.

“You were saying?”

“Sodding Gryffindors that are too polite for their own good” muttered Harry darkly as he stomped off the get the door.

* * *

As New Year’s eves go, the party was an unmitigated success. At 12, Grimmault Place, every guest was laughing, chatting and drinking. The house had been scrubbed up and decorated for the occasion and Harry had to admit it looked much more welcoming with a certain Slytherin’s touch.

The elegant tinsel and frosty silver wreaths were classy but in a homey kind of way. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he had had a Christmas tree and wreaths in the house and the memory of Draco’s concentrated frown as he conjured and put up shiny lights everywhere put a goofy, uncontrollable grin on his face for hours on end, especially when he recalled how they ended up tangling a light garland irreparably in their haste with one memorable and athletic fuck.

They had come a long way, he reflected while watching the stunning platinum blond with his posh features twisted in a dubious smile as Pansy was talking with a conspiratory air to him, Charlie and his boyfriend Andrej. Harry felt a surge of possessiveness when he saw the way Charlie and Andrej looked captivated by Draco’s apparently riveting conversation and his graceful, expressive hand gestures. The pale blond must have sensed his gaze and looked up. He shot him a smouldering look full of unspeakable possibilities that cut his breath short in an instant. Then the tall blond reported his attention on his friends and Harry shook himself, feeling ridiculous… and horny.

The Auror looked around him and took in the room packed with his noisy friends. He felt at home.

George and Seamus hadn’t blown up any piece of furniture –yet-, Ron was happily drunk and hugging everyone at close range –though Harry didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the prospect of soon being a Dad-, Luna was introducing Algernon to everyone and distributing fresh copies of the Quibbler (a special issue on Garden Gnomes promising lots of details on how to teach gnomes how to dance and sing), Neville was trying to explain his paper on the curative properties of the Mimbulus Mimbletonia that had just been published in a fancy Herbology Journal and rewarded by an obscure big-shot accolade, Dean was getting sloshed with Ernie, Ivy and the other Aurors that had became friends over the past months and were in various state of drunkenness, all trying their best to survive a shady-looking drinking game under the shocked wide eyes of Hannah and Angelina, and Ginny and Blaise were chatting happily about something utterly funny based on the intermittent thundering laugh of the dark-skinned wizard and the tears running on Ginny’s cheeks.

Harry sighed contentedly, relishing in the pleasure of having friends over to celebrate the New Year and the sensation that he belonged here with complete certainty, for the first time in his life. Absorbed in his sappy thoughts, he didn’t catch Hermione’s last sentence and blinked in confusion.

“You know, he’s not going to tell you but Ron is thrilled you finally decided to come back. And setting up a team of Aurors specialized in infiltration and undercover work was a very smart move, Harry. I must say, I’m very impressed.”

“Thanks ‘Mione” said Harry and blushed a little.

“Just try to stay in one piece, will you?”

“I promise I’ll try” he laughed under her dubious stare. “By the way, you look great in that blue thing” added Harry, eyeing appraisingly the beautiful dress.

“Oh thanks Harry, though I feel as discreet and graceful as the Giant Squid right now. But you like quite fetching yourself in that tuxedo. I can’t figure out where you got the idea but you’re very handsome.”

“Thanks” he smiled “It’s just a private joke between Draco and me. When I kidnapped him on his wedding day, I wore this Muggle suit to rile Lucius up.”

Hermione shot him such a stern look that he started laughing.

“You know what, with you being you, I’m actually quite relieved to know you’re dating a Healer now” she said with rosy cheeks.

“Now don’t you get all Molly-Weasley on me, Hermione” he scoffed

“Hey! It’s just the hormones” she mumbled indignantly. The bushy brunette seemed lost in her thoughts for a moment then added in a low voice “If I start singing Celestina Warbeck, just be a dear and shoot me in the face”

Harry snorted his bubbly cocktail, half-choked on it, coughed and laughed at the same time, tears prickling in his eyes. At the other end of the room, he saw Draco with his eyebrow arched aristocratically and a severe look on his face showing how unimpressed he was with his manners. It made Harry laugh even harder with even messier results. Draco silvery eyes warmed and the corner of his mouth twitched, then he focused on the conversation he was having with a very excited Neville.

* * *

“Draco, what is it, where are we…?”

“Shhhh” Draco cut him off dryly.

He tugged at his hand and led him to the kitchen without getting the lights, then closed the door and pressed Harry against the hard wooden surface of the table. Harry’s pace was through the roof and his cock was already hard. Draco had apparently endeavoured to make him die of frustration, teasing him with hot looks and accident-on-purpose brushes, making Harry’s blood boil. He had been painfully walking on the edge of a knife for hours now.

“Salazar, you’re so hot…” murmured the pale blond in Harry’s ear, making him shiver. He kissed him hotly, plundering his mouth in a frenzy of wet and messy kisses, turning Harry in a shivering mess in an instant and making him moan desperately.

“I want to taste you…” the platinum blond said, then disappeared from his sight in a rustle of fabric.

“Draco, what about the gues- Oh god” he moaned desperately as Draco’s mouth closed hungrily around his cock.

“Draco… the door, it’s not… Aah”

But Draco ignored him and kept going, sucking and swirling and caressing with that expert tongue of his, pulling Harry on the edge in no time. Harry threaded his right hand in this silky white mane and held the flat surface with the other, clinging desperately for support.

“Draco…” Harry warned “Drac- Ooh God” he sobbed as the pale blond swallowed his release.

“Much better” said the Slytherin while rearranging his dazzling outfit. The next second, he had disappeared and left Harry in a state of deep confusion, utterly debauched and hazily content. He closed his fly and tried to straighten his suit with slow and sluggish gestures, in shocked awe about what had just happened. Shaking his head confusedly like a dog, he went back to the Dining room, trying to look casual.

Ginny looked at him and her eyes widened then sparkled with mirth as she hid her smirk in her drink and resumed her chat with Blaise.

Avoiding her, and absolutely not embarrassed, Harry decided to get himself a drink and saw Hermione just beside him, she took one look at him and said with a sigh:

“That man is an animal.”

Then she was off. Harry blushed furiously and caught sight of Draco. The bastard smirked at him superiorly before Ron pushed him away excitedly towards the other side of the room to fill his glass with one the disgustingly strong cocktails he was known for.

_Bastard._

He didn’t have much time to muse on his thought because everyone started screaming the countdown, he looked around frantically and started when a warm and soft hand slipped in his and pressed it. Harry looked at his left and locked his green eyes on the silvery pools full of promises of many many years of playful arguments, stupid fights, mind-blowing sex and much more. Harry cupped Draco’s jaw and kissed the full lips, sealing the pact with a stupid smile.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”

* * *

The minute the last guest closed the door, Harry jumped on Draco, kissing him feverishly and hotly, grazing his light stubble on Draco’s jaw in a maddening way, his breath feathering the sensitive flesh of his neck and he gasped.

“I couldn’t think about anything else the whole night” he said in a frenzied tone, gripping the blond’s hips and grinding against the narrow hips. Draco was already so turned on he was dizzy. The raven-haired man frantically tugged at his button. The sudden and mind-numbing blowjob had done nothing to sate his lust, if anything it had made it worse.

“You drove me crazy with your fucking suit and your teasing little looks…” he trailed off, momentarily rendered speechless by the decadent sight of the tousled wizard, his black shirt, silky dark tie and waistcoat open, revealing the lean pale torso covered in golden lights by the fire. Harry growled and resumed his frantic rambling and ministrations. Draco hissed in approval when the rough hand slipped in his smart black trousers and caressed his hard, leaking cock.

“God, I was so far gone, I would have fucked you into the floor right here, in front of everyone the minute you asked me too”

“You kinky little Gryffindor… I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time” said Draco arrogantly “Now, as much as I love your outrageous outfit, take it off, I want to see you”

“Mmmh… I like it when you get bossy like that…” said Harry shamelessly and stepped back, slowly stripping off his clothes, piece by piece, locking his feral green stare with Draco’s.

“Oh, you do…?” purred the fair-haired man while feasting his eyes on the wide expense of golden skin, taut muscle and hard, throbbing flesh. Harry obviously did, his shaft already hard and twitching between his legs.

“Mmmmh” confirmed Harry lasciviously in a deep vibrant tone, his eyes roaming hungrily on the slender body.

“Then, sit, Potter” ordered Draco in a commanding voice, his posh accent sharper than usual.

“Yes” agreed Harry and complied.

“Now touch yourself. Slowly, in long, slow strokes and watch me”

Harry wrapped his strong hand around his cock and started stroking himself, his eyes not leaving the white-blond for a second. The sight of Harry pleasuring himself was indecently mesmerizing. Draco unclothed himself with a provocative glint in his silvery pools. He stood in front of the sofa and said authoritatively:

“Now, take me into your mouth and make me scream, Potter.”

Harry righted himself and engulfed Draco’s cock in a pliant hot wetness that made him loose all sense of reality.

“Mmmh, Oh Merlin, yes” moaned the Slytherin. “Good slave.” The fair-haired man fisted the shiny black mane and tugged at it, urging Harry to go deeper. A strangled cry erupted from Draco’s throat without warning. He was already so close but it was nearly impossible to stop, so good… The Healer steeled himself.

“Very good, Potter, look how docile you are…” Draco said seductively “I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

“Yes, please…” whimpered Harry. Draco pushed him back in the sofa, kneeled on the rug and took Harry’s cock in his mouth in one long, deep slide of his mouth, the tip pressing against the back of his throat. Harry’s broken cry of surprise was like fire in his loins. He kept going, excruciatingly slow and deeper at each forward motion. Trembling fingers slipped in his hair and caressed his neck.

“Draco, I want you, God I want you so much…”

The white-blond wizard looked up but didn’t answer, blood boiling in his veins at the sight of the lust-blown irises and the dazed, wanton expression of pure need painted on Harry’s features.

“Then take me, Potter” provoked Draco.

“No, I… I want you. I want you inside me, Draco…” said Harry roughly, hypnotizing the pale blond who couldn’t detach his eyes from him. “Please” begged Harry, making Draco come back to his senses.

The Slytherin brusquely turned him around, making him kneel on the couch with parted legs, his hands clutching the backrest.

“You want me to fuck you, Potter?” asked brashly Draco, teasing Harry’s entrance with sleeked fingers. The raven-haired man shivered.

“Yes” said Harry in a breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, giving access to Draco’s ravenous mouth that sucked and bruised the golden flesh messily. He slipped one finger inside Harry, opening him up slowly. The ring of muscle clenched around his finger as his slave quivered and moaned throatily.

“You like that, Potter?”

“God, yes” exhaled Harry messily.

“And do you like that?” Draco slipped another finger and started scissoring and looking for the small bundle of nerves that would make him melt around him.

“Hah” exclaimed Harry and pushed back to get him deeper inside him.

“You want me, inside you, Potter? Right now?” Draco teased him while his other hand seized the leaking cock.

“Yes, yes, now!”

“Beg me” commanded the pale blond.

“Please… Oh please Draco, fuck me now”

The pleading and needy tone nearly drove him over the edge. He sucked in a shaky breath and aligned himself with the palpitating muscles. He breached Harry, slowly, retreating and pushing back, millimetre by millimetre, holding Harry’s hips with his hands and blocking him from pushing back. When he finally sheathed himself deep into the tight hot channel, he stopped moving and breathed carefully. Draco softly stroked Harry’s cock, whispered a spell and the young man let out a frustrated noise. A glowing silvery thread had circled tightly around Harry’s cock and balls then knotted itself. Draco brought his mouth at Harry’s hear and said in a low, rough voice.

“Now, Potter, I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, and you’re going to enjoy every second of it. You’ll have me deep inside you, deeper than you ever had, filling you nice and hard. And you’re going to beg me and say my name, and only then I’ll let you come.”

Harry didn’t answer, trembling with want and desperate for release.

Draco let go of his shaft, gripping the Auror’s hips and with a grunt, he started to thrust inside the hot channel, faster and harder at every back and forth. Harry was reduced to a hot, whimpering mess, an incoherent jumble of obscene words tumbling from his mouth in a rapid pace, urging Draco to go deeper, faster, harder, now, pleading, begging, hanging on the sofa with whitened knuckles.

Their bodies were now glistening and slipping with sweat, shining with flickering golden-reddish lights. Draco arched his back and changed his angle, making Harry mewl lowly in a long, throaty sound.

“You like that, feeling me inside you?”

“Yes-yes-yes-yes” hissed Harry, hanging on those words that had lost all meaning.

Draco’s hips were crashing on Harry’s flesh mercilessly, he was losing himself in the sensations that exploded in his body. He had never felt so alive, his skin and nerves ablaze and on the verge of snapping, he wouldn’t last very long now.

“Draco, please, please” begged Harry breathlessly “I can’t…”

Draco suddenly stopped and lifted the spell, the silvery glowing thread vanished and Harry whimpered with pleasure.

“Don’t stop… Please Draco, fuck me, fuck me hard”

And Draco did, angling his thrusts so he would brush the tiny bud buried inside Harry.

“Yes! Oh my God, Draco, yes!” Harry cried out and shuddered as he came in an eruption that swept all coherent thought away and replaced it with pure ecstasy, he kept mewling Draco’s name over and over, carelessly, so open. It was the hottest thing Draco had ever seen.

He felt his own climax rise and rise and rise as the tight ring constricted erratically around his hard flesh.

“Yes! Oh Harry you feel so good, so-” but he never finished his sentence, too shaken by the sensations that crashed over him. He emptied himself in Harry with a deep sob, rode the last of his aftershock and stopped moving, breathless, sweaty and broken.

He finally withdrew himself and grabbed Harry in a fierce embrace. They collapsed on the sofa in a tangle of heated and salty limbs trembling from exertion.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” croaked Draco.

“No… I mean yes and no, I’m… brilliant” Harry mumbled.

“Merlin, that was hot” Draco blurted out.

“Mmmmh, indeed.”

A sated silence filled with the cracks of the burning wood stretched for a few moments.

“Draco?”

“Mmh?”

“I wanted to tell you for a while but… I was scared shitless. I think now I’m high enough not to care” Harry was in a perilously drowsy state.

“What is it?” asked Draco cautiously, starting to worry over his bizarre statement.

“I love you.”

The blond buried his nose inside Harry’s neck, breathing him in and trying to reign in the wave of emotion that swelled in his chest and threatened to choke him. A moment later, Harry’s breathing deepened, he was already drifting.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too” whispered Draco, terrified and thrilled at the same time by the four daunting words. He had never felt this vulnerable.

“I know” Harry mumbled and hugged him tighter. Draco spelled a blanket over them and smiled against the hot golden skin.

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic is dedicated to SteveTonyCupcakes.  
> She's the one who introduced me to the merry world of fanfics and without her unwavering support and constructive feedback, I would've never dared to write anyhting and even less posting it here!  
> So thank you to the BESTEST FRIEND EVER, I love you girl and thanks again <3


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